LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER.  —  Page  90. 


LITTLE  PItVI>Y>S  FLYA.WAY  SERIES. 


LITTLE  GRANDMOTHER 


BY 


SOPHIE  MAY, 

AUTHOR  or  "LITTLE  PKUDY  STORIES,"  "DOTTY  DIMPLJJ 
STORIES,"  "THB  DOCTOR'S  DAUGHTER,"  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED. 


BOSTON: 
LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  PUBLISHERS, 

NEW  YORK : 
LEE,    SHEPARD   AND    DILLINGHAM. 

1873. 


JUt 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1870, 

BY  LEE  AND  SHEPABD, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington, 


\ 


Electrotyped  and  Printed  at  the  Establishment  of 
W.  W.  HARDING, 

Philadelphia. 


P5 


TO 

MY   LITTLE    CUBAN   FRIEND 
MARIA  AROZARENA. 


LITTLE    PRUDTS   FLYAWAY  SERIES. 

TO  BE  COMPLETED   IN  SIX  VOLS, 


1.  LITTLE   FOLKS 

2.  IPRTCHDY   KEEPI3STG^   HOTJSE. 

3.  ^.TJN 

4.  LITTLE 

(Others  in  preparation.) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAQB 

I.  GEORGE  WASHINGTON,    .....       9 
II.  THE  SAMPLER,     ......         24 

III.  THE  BROKEN  BRIDGE, 31 

IV.  THE  TITHING-MAN,     .....         44 
Y.  A  WITCH-TALK,        .       « •      .       .       .       .66 

VI.  A  WITCH-FRIGHT, 67 

VII.  THE  SILK  POCKET,   ......  83 

VIII.  PATTY'S  SUNDAY,         .....  99 

IX.  MRS.  CHASE'S  BOTTLE, 110 

X.  MASTER  PURPLE, 122 

XI.  LITTLE  GRANDFATHER, 134 

XII.  THE  LITTLE  DIPPER,         ....  144 

XIII.  MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM,       ....  160 

XIV.  SPINNING,     .       .       .              .  &  .       .  176 
XV.  THE  BRASS  KETTLE,       .       .       .       .       .186 


LITTLE  GRANDMOTHER 


CHAPTER    I. 

GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 

I  BELIEVE  I  will  tell  you  the  story  of 
Grandma  Parlin's  little  childhood,  as  nearly 
as  possible  in  the  way  I  have  heard  her  tell 
it  herself  to  Flyaway  Clifford. 

"Well,  then,  Grandma  Parlin,  her  face  full 
of  wrinkles,  lay  in  bed  under  a  red  and 
green  patchwork  quilt,  with  her  day-cap  on. 
That  is,  the  one  who  was  going  to  be  Grand 
ma  Parlin  some  time  in  the  far-off  future. 

She  wouldn't  have  believed  it  of  herself 

(9) 


10 


told  her.  You  might  as 
well  have  talked  to  the  four  walls.  Not  that 
she  was  deaf:  she  had  ears  enough  ;  it  was 
only  brains  she  lacked  —  being  exactly  six 
hours  old,  and  not  a  day  over. 

This  was  more  than  seventy  years  ago, 
little  reader,  for  she  was  born  on  New  Year's 
day,  1800,  —  born  in  a  town  we  will  call 
Perseverance,  among  the  hills  in  Maine,  in  a 
large,  unpainted  house,  on  the  corner  of  two 
streets,  in  a  bedroom  which  looked  out  upon 
the  east. 

Her  mother,  who  was,  of  course,  our  little 
Flyaway's  great  grandmother,  lay  beside  her, 
with  a  very  happy  face. 

"  Poor  little  lamb/'  said  she,  "you  have 
come  into  this  strange  world  just  as  the  new 
century  begins;  but  you  haven't  the  least 
idea  what  you  are  undertaking!  —  I  am 
going  to  call  this  baby  Patience,"  said  she 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON.  11 

to  the  nurse  ;  "  for  if  she  lives  she  will  have 
plenty  of  trouble,  and  perhaps  the  name 
will  help  her  bear  it  better/' 

And  then  the  good  woman  lay  silent  a 
long  while,  and  prayed  in  her  heart  that  the 
little  one  might  grow  up  in  the  fear  of  the 
Lord.  She  had  breathed  the  same  wish  over 
her  other  eight  children,  and  now  for  this 
ninth  little  darling  what  better  prayer  could 
be  found  ? 

"  She's  the  sweetest  little  angel  picter," 
said  Siller  Noonin,  smoothing  baby's  dot  of 
a  nose ;  "  I  guess  she's  going  to  take  after 
your  side  of  the  house,  and  grow  up  a  regu 
lar  beauty." 

"  We  won't  mind  about  looks,  Priscilla," 
said  Mrs.  Lyman,  who  was  remarkably  hand 
some  still.  "  <  Favor  is  deceitful,  and  beauty 
is  vain;  but  the  woman  that  feareth  the 
Lord  shall  be  praised.'  " 


12  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

"  Well,  well,  what  a  hand  Mrs.  Lyman  is 
-or  Scripter,"  thought  Siller,  as  she  bustled 
to  the  fireplace,  and  began  to  stir  the  gruel 
which  was  boiling  on  the  coals.  Then  she 
poured  the  gruel  into  a  blue  bowl,  tasting  it 
to  make  sure  it  was  salted  properly.  Mrs. 
Lyman  kept  her  eyes  closed  all  the  while, 
that  she  might  not  see  it  done,  for  it  was 
not  pleasant  to  know  she  must  use  the 
spoon  after  Priscilla. 

The  gruel  was  swallowed,  Mrs.  Lyman 
and  the  baby  were  both  asleep,  and  the 
nurse  had  taken  out  her  knitting,  when  she 
heard  some  one  step  into  the  south  entry. 

"I  wonder  who  that  is,"  thought  Siller; 
"  it's  my  private  opinion  it's  somebody  come 
to  see  the  new  baby." 

She  knew  it  was  not  one  of  the  family,  for 
the  older  children  had  all  gone  to  school  and 
taken  their  dinners,  and  the  two  little  ones 


GEOBGE   WASHINGTON.  13 

were  spending  the  day  at  their  aunt  Han 
nah's.  Now  it  was  really  no  particular 
business  of  Siller  Noonin's  who  was  at  the 
door.  Squire  Lyman  was  in  the  "fore 
room,"  and  Betsey  Gould,  "  the  help/'  in  the 
kitchen.  Siller  was  not  needed  to  attend  to 
callers ;  but  when  she  was  "out  nursing"  she 
always  liked  to  know  what  was  going  on  in 
every  part  of  the  house,  and  was  often  seen 
wandering  about  with  her  knitting  in  her 
hands. 

As  she  stole  softly  out  of  the  bedroom 
now,  not  to  waken  Mrs.  Lyman,  she  heard 
Mr.  Bosworth  talking  to  Squire  Lyman,  and 
was  just  in  time  to  catch  the  words, — 

"  The  poor  General !  The  doctors  couldn't 
do  nothing  for  him,  and  he  died." 

"  Not  our  General  ?'  cried  Siller,  drop 
ping  her  knitting-work. 


14  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"Yes,  George  Washington,"  replied  the 
visitor,  solemnly. 

Siller  leaned  back  against  the  open  door, 
too  much  excited  to  notice  how  the  cold  air 
was  rushing  into  the  house.  "  General  Wash 
ington  !  When  did  he  die  ?  and  what  was  the 
matter  of  him  ?"  gasped  she.  "  Speak  low ; 
I  wouldn't  have  Mrs.  Lyman  get  hold  of  it 
for  the  world !" 

"  He  died  a  Saturday  night,  the  fourteenth 
of  last  month,  of  something  like  the  croup, 
as  near  as  I  can  make  out/'  said  Mr.  Bos- 
worth. 

Squire  Lyman  shook  his  head  sorrowfully, 
and  put  another  stick  of  wood  on  the  fire. 

"Mrs.  Noonin,"  said  he,  "will  you  have 
the  goodness  to  shut  that  door?" 

Siller  shut  the  door,  and  walked  to  the 
fire  with  her  apron  at  her  eyes.  "  O  dear, 
0  dear,  how  quick  the  news  has  come  !  Only 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON.  15 

a  little  over  a  fortnight !  Here  it  is  a  Wed 
nesday.  Where  was  I  a  Saturday  night  a 
fortnight  ago  ?  O,  a  settin'  up  with  old  Mrs. 
Gould,  and  little  did  I  think — Why,  I  never 
was  so  beat !  Do  you  suppose  the  British 
ers  will  come  over  and  go  to  fighting  us 
again?  There  never  was  such  a  man  as 
General  Washington !  What  shall  we  do 
without  him?" 

Siller's  voice  was  pitched  very  high,  but 
she  herself  supposed  she  was  speaking  just 
above  her  breath.  Mr.  Bosworth  stamped 
his  snowy  boots  on  the  husk  mat,  and  was 
just  taking  out  his  silk  handkerchief,  when 
Siller,  who  knew  what  a  frightful  noise  he 
always  made  blowing  his  nose,  seized  his 
arm  and  whispered, — 

"  Hush,  we're  keeping  the  house  still  ?  I 
don't  know  as  you  know  we've  got  sick  folks 
in  the  bedroom." 


16  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER.      - 

As  she  spoke  there  was  a  sudden  sharp 
tinkle  of  the  tea-bell—Mrs.  Lyman's  bell — 
and  Priscilla  ran  back  at  once  to  her  duty. 

" Where  have  you  been?"  said  Mrs.  Ly- 
man  ?  "  and  what  did  I  hear  you  say  about 
George  Washington  ?  " 

There  was  a  fire  in  the  lady's  mild,  blue 
eyes,  which  startled  Priscilla. 

"You've  been  dozing  off,  ma'am,"  said  she, 
soothingly.  "I  hadn't  been  gone  more'n  a 
minute ;  but  folks  does  get  the  cur'usest  no 
tions,  dreaming  like  in  the  daytime,'5 

"There,  that  will  do,"  said  the  sweet- 
voiced  lady,"  with  a  keen  glance  at  the 
nurse's  red  eyelids;  "you  mean  well,  but 
the  plain  truth  is  always  safest.  You  need 
not  try  to  deceive  me,  and  what  is  more,  you 
can't  do  it,  Priscilla." 

Then  the  nurse  had  to  tell  what  she  had 
heard,  though  it  was  too  sad  a  story  to  come 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON.  17 

to  the  sick  woman's  ears;  for  every  man, 
woman,  and  child  in  the  United  States  loved 
the  good  George  Washington,  and  must 
grieve  at  the  news  of  his  death. 

Mrs.  Lyman  said  nothing,  but  lay  quite 
still,  looking  out  of  the  window  upon  the 
white  fields  and  the  bare  trees,  till  the  baby 
began  to  cry,  and  Siller  came  to  take  it 
away. 

"Bless  its  little  heart,"  said  the  nurse, 
holding  it  against  her  tear-wet  cheek; 
"  it's  born  into  this  world  in  a  poor  time,  so 
it  is.  No  wonder  it  feels  bad.  Open  its 
eyes  and  look  around.  See,  Pinky  Posy, 
this  is  a  free  country  now,  and  has  been  for 
over  twenty  years ;  but  it's  my  private  opin 
ion  it  won't  stay  so  long,  for  the  Father  of 
it  is  dead  and  gone !  0,  Mrs.  Lyman, 
what  awful  times  there'll  be  before  this 
child  grows  up  !  " 


18  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"  Don't  borrow  trouble,  Priscilla.  The 
world  won't  stop  because  one  man  is  dead. 
It  is  God's  world,  and  it  moves." 

"  But,  Mrs.  Lyman,  do  you  think  the 
United  States  is  going  to  hold  together 
without  General  Washington  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure  I  do  ;  and  my  baby  will 
find  it  a  great  deal  better  place  to  live  in 
than  ever  you  or  I  have  done  ;  now  you 
mark  my  words,  Priscilla." 

All  the  people  of  Perseverance  considered 
Mrs.  Lyman  a  very  wise  woman,  and  when 
she  said,  "  Now  you  mark  my  words,"  it  was 
as  good  as  Elder  Lovejoy's  amen  at  the  end 
of  a  sermon.  Priscilla  wiped  her  eyes  and 
looked  consoled.  After  what  Mrs.  Lyman 
had  said,  she  felt  perfectly  easy  about  the 
United  States. 

"Well,  baby,"  said  she,  "who  knows  but 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON.  19 

you'll  see  great  times,  after  all,  in  your  day 
and  generation?" 

And  upon  that  the  baby  went  to  sleep 
quite  peacefully,  though  without  ever 
dreaming  of  any  "  great  times." 

Ah,  if  Siller  could  only  have  guessed 
what  wonderful  things  that  baby  was  really 
going  to  see  ain  her  day  and  generation!" 
The  good  woman  had  never  heard  of  a  rail 
road  car,  or  a  telegraph  wire,  or  a  gaslight. 
How  she  would  have  screamed  with  aston 
ishment  if  any  one  had  told  her  that  Miss 
Patience  would  some  time  go  whizzing 
through  the  country  without  horses,  and 
with  nothing  to  draw  the  carriage  but  a 
puff  of  smoke !  Or  that  Miss  Patience 
would  warm  her  feet  at  a  hole  in  the  floor 
(for  Siller  had  no  idea  of  our  furnaces). 
Or  that  Miss  Patience's  grandchildren  would 
write  letters  to  her  with  lightning  (for 


20  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

a  telegraph  is  almost  the  same  thing  as 
that). 

But,  no ;  Siller  was  only  thinking  about 
some  cracker  toast  and  a  cup  of  tea,  and 
wondering  if  it  was  time  to  set  the  heel 
in  her  stocking.  And  before  she  had 
counted  off  the  stitches,  the  children  came 
home  from  school,  and  she  had  more  than 
she  could  do  to  keep  the  house  still. 

Little  Moses,  two  years  old,  had  to  see 
the  new  baby,  and  in  a  fit  of  indignation 
almost  put  her  eyes  out  with  his  little 
thumbs ;  for  what  right  had  "  um  naughty 
sing"  in  his  red  cradle? 

But  Moses  soon  found  he  could  not  help 
himself;  and  as  "  um  naughty  sing"  did  not 
seem  to  mean  any  harm,  he  gave  up  with  a 
good  grace. 

Days,  weeks,  and  months  passed  on.  Sil 
ler  Noonin  went  to  other  houses  with  her 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON.  21 

knitting-work,  and  Patience  cut  her  teeth  on 
a  wooden  plate,  took  the  whooping-cough, 
and  by  that  time  it  was  her  turn  to  give  up ; 
for  another  baby  came  to  the  house,  and 
wanted  that  same  red  cradle.  It  was  a  boy, 
and  his  name  was  Solomon.  And  after  that 
there  was  another  boy  by  the  name  of  Ben 
jamin  ;  and  Benjamin  was  the  only  one  who 
never  had  to  give  up,  for  he  was  always  the 
youngest.  That  made  eleven  children  in  all  : 
James,  John,  Rachel,  and  Dorcas ;  the  twins, 
Silas  and  George ;  and  then  Mary,  Moses, 
Patience,  Solomon,  and  Benjamin. 

There  was  a  great  deal  to  be  done  in  the 
house,  for  there  were  two  large  farms,  with 
cattle  and  sheep,  and  two  men  who  lived  at 
Squire  Lyman's  and  took  care  of  the  farms. 
Milk  had  to  be  made  into  butter  and  cheese, 
and  wool  into  blankets  and  gowns,  and  there 
was  generally  only  one  girl  in  the  kitchen  to 


22  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

help  to  do  all  the  work.  Her  name  was 
Betsey  Gould,  and  she  was  strong  and  will 
ing;  and  Rachel  and  Dorcas  each  did  her 
share,  arid  so  did  even  little  Mary ;  but  they 
could  not  do  everything.  The  dear  mother 
of  all  had  to  spin  and  weave,  and  bake  and 
brew,  and  pray  every  hour  in  the  day  for 
strength  and  patience  to  do  her  whole  duty 
by  such  a  large  family. 

They  were  pretty  good  children,  but  she 
did  not  have  so  much  time  to  attend  to 
them  as  mothers  have  in  these  days,  and 
they  did  not  always  look  as  tidy  or  talk 
as  correctly  as  you  do,  my  dears.  You 
must  not  expect  too  much  of  little  folks 
who  lived  before  the  time  of  railroads,  in 
a  little  country  town  where  there  were  no 
Sabbath  schools,  and  hardly  any  news 
papers. 

It  is  of  Patience  Lyman,   the  one  who 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON  23 

afterwards  became  Grandma  Parlin,  that  I 
shall  have  most  to  say.  She  was  usually 
called  Patty,  for  short  (though  Patty  is 
really  the  pet  name  for  Martha  instead  of 
Patience),  and  she  was,  as  nearly  as  I 
can  find  out,  very  much  such  a  child  as 
Flyaway  Clifford  —  with  blue  eyes,  soft 
light  hair,  and  little  feet  that  went  danc 
ing  everywhere. 

And  now,  if  you  think  you  know  her 
well  enough,  perhaps  you  would  like  to 
go  to  school  with  her  a  day  or  two,  about 
three  quarters  of  a  mile  away  from  home. 


24  LITTLE  GRANDMOTHER. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    SAMPLER. 

How  do  you  think  she  was  dressed  ?  In 
a  "  petticoat  and  loose  gown."  The  loose 
gown  was  a  calico  jacket  that  hung  about 
the  waist  in  gathers,  and  the  petticoat  was 
a  moreen  skirt  that  came  down  almost  to 
the  ankles.  Then  her  feet — I  must  con 
fess  they  were  bare.  Nearly  all  the  little 
children  in  Perseverance  went  barefooted  in 
summer. 

Patty  had  been  longing  for  an  education 
ever  since  she  was  two  years  old,  and  at 
three  and  a  half  she  was  allowed  to  go  to 
school.  All  the  other  children  had  been 


THE   SAMPLER.  25 

taught  the  alphabet  at  home,  for  Mrs.  Lyman 
was  a  very  considerate  woman,  and  did  not 
think  it  fair  to  trouble  a  teacher  with  baby- 
work  like  that:  but  this  summer  she  had  so 
much  to  do,  with  little  Benny  in  her  arms 
and  Solly  under  her  feet,  that  she  was  only 
too  glad  to  have  talkative  Patty  out  of  the 
way. 

So,  just  as  the  stage-horn  was  blowing,  at 
half  past  eight  one  bright  June  morning, 
Mary  put  into  the  dinner  basket  an  extra 
saucer  pie,  sweetened  with  molasses,  and 
walked  the  little  one  off  to  school.  What 
school  was  Patty  had  no  idea.  She  had 
heard  a  great  deal  about  the  new  "  mis 
tress,"  and  wondered  what  sort  of  a  crea 
ture  she  could  be.  She  soon  found  out. 
Miss  Judkins  was  merely  a  fine-looking 
young  lady,  with  a  tortoise-shell  comb  in 


20  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

her  hair,  not  quite  as  large  as  a  small 
chaise-top.  She  looked  like  other  people, 
and  Patty  was  sadly  disappointed.  There 
was  an  hour-glass  on  the  desk  full  of  drip 
ping  sand,  and  Patty  wanted  to  shake  it 
to  make  the  sand  go  out  faster,  for  she 
grew  very  tired  of  sitting  still  so  long 
hearing  the  children  read,  "  Pretty  cow,  go 
there  and  dine."  She  was  afraid  to  say 
her  letters;  but  after  she  had  said  them, 
was  much  prouder  than  the  Speaker  of  the 
Senate  after  he  has  made  a  very  eloquent 
speech.  She  had  nothing  more  to  do,  and 
watched  the  little  girls  working  their  sam 
plers.  Her  sister  Mary,  not  yet  eighfr years 
old,  was  making  a  beautiful  one,  with  a 
flower-pot  in  one  corner  and  a  tree  and 
birds  in  the  other,  and  some  lines  in  the 
middle  like  these : — 


THE   SAMPLER.  27 

"  EDUCATION. 

"  Be  this  Miss  Mary's  care  : 

Let  this  her  thoughts  engage  ; 
Be  this  the  business  of  her  youth, 
The  comfort  of  her  age." 

Patty  looked  on,  and  watched  Mary's 
needle  going  in  and  out,  making  little  red 
crooks.  She  did  not  know  the  silk  letters, 
and  would  not  have  understood  the  verse 
if  she  had  heard  it  read ;  but  neither  did 
the  big  sister  understand  it  herself. 

"Be  this  the  business  of  her  youth," 
Mary  thought  meant  the  sampler,  for  really 
that  sampler  had  been  the  business  of  her 
youth  ever  since  she  had  learned  to  hold 
a  needle,  and  the  tree  wasn't  done  yet,  and 
the  flowers  were  flying  out  of  the  flower 
pot  on  account  of  having  no  stems  to  stand 
on.  Patty  was  ashamed  because  she  herself 
had  no  canvass  with  silk  pictures  on  it  to 
carry  out  to  the  "  mistress."  The  more  she 


28  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

thought  about  it,  the  more  restless  she  grew, 
till  before  noon  she  fell  to  crying,  and  said 
aloud, — 

"/want  to  work  a  sambler ;  yes,  I  do." 

Miss  Judkins  told  Mary  she  had  better 
take  her  home.  Patty  felt  disgraced,  and 
cried  all  the  way,  she  did  not  really 
know  what  for.  Sometimes  she  thought  it 
was  because  the  school  was  such  a  poor 
place  to  go  to,  and  then  again  she  thought 
it  was  because  she  wanted  to  work  a  "  sam 
bler."  When  they  got  home  she  did  not 
wait  till  they  were  fairly  in  the  house,  but 
called  out,  with  a  loud  voice, — 

"  O,  mamma !  She's  only  a  woman  !  The 
mistress  is  only  a  woman  !" 

That  was  all  the  way  she  had  of  telling 
how  cruelly  disappointed  she  felt  in  the 
school. 

Mrs.  Lyman  had  just   put   the  baby   in 


THE   SAMPLER.  29 

the  cradle,  and  was  now  rocking  little 
Solly,  who  was  crying  with  a  stone  bruise 
in  the  bottom  of  his  foot.  Betsey  Gould 
was  washing,  Dorcas  and  Rachael  were  mak 
ing  dresses,  and  the  dinner  must  be  put 
on  the  table.  No  wonder  tired  Mrs.  Lyman 
was  sorry  to  see  Patty  come  home  crying, 
or  that  she  laid  her  pale,  tired  face  against 
Solly's  cheek  when  Patty  whined,  "  Mayn't 
I  work  a  sambler?"  and  said,  in  a  low 
tone,  as  if  she  were  breathing  a  prayer, — 
"  Let  patience  have  her  perfect  wrork." 
Patty  had  often  heard  her  poor,  overbur 
dened  mother  make  that  same  remark,  but 
had  never  understood  it  before.  Now  she 
thought  it  meant,  "Let  my  daughter  Pa 
tience  have  a  sambler  to  work ;"  and  she 
cleared  the  clouds  off  her  little  face,  and 
went  dancing  out  to  see  the  new  goslings. 
Mary,  who  was  thoughtful  beyond  her 


30  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

years,  coaxed  Solly  into  her  arms,  and 
soothed  him  with  a  little  story,  so  that  her 
mother  could  go  and  take  up  the  dinner. 

Patty  found  out  next  day  that  she  was 
not  to  have  a  sampler ;  but  to  console  her 
Mary  hemmed  a  large  piece  of  tow  and 
linen  cloth,  and  told  her  she  might  learn 
to  work  on  it  with  colored  thread.  It 
was  a  funny  looking  thing  after  Patty  had 
scrawled  it  all  over  with  Greek  and  lie- 
brew  ;  but  it  was  a  wonderful  help  to  the 
child's  feelings. 

She  was  a  great  pet  at  school,  and  grew 
quite  fond  of  going ;  but  she  tells  Flyaway 
she  does  not  remember  much  more  that 
happened,  after  she  began  that  sampler, 
until  the  next  spring.  At  that  time  she 
was  a  trifle  more  than  four  years  old. 


XHE   JB110KEN   BRIDGE.  31 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    BROKEN    BRIDGE. 

IT  was  early  in  April,  and  the  travelling 
was  very  bad,  for  the  frost  was  just  coming 
out  of  the  ground.  Mary,  Moses,  and  the 
twins  attended  a  private  school,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  and  Patty  went 
with  them ;  but  they  were  all  rather  tired 
of  her  company. 

"  Mother,  we're  afraid  she'll  get  lost  in 
one  of  the  holes,"  said  Moses.  "  Won't 
you  make  her  stay  at  home  ?" 

Mrs.  Lyman  stood  before  the  brick  oven, 
taking  out  of  it  some  blackened  cobs  which 


32  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

had  been  used  for  smoking  hams,  and  put 
ting  them  into  a  dish  of  water. 

"  What  are  you  doing  with  those  cobs  ? " 
asked  Moses,  while  Patty  caught  at  her 
mother's  skirts,  saying, — 

"I  won't  lose  me  in  a  hole,  mamma! 
Mayn't  I  go  to  school  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I  am  doing  with 
the  cobs,  Moses,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman;  "mak 
ing  pearlash  water.  I  shall  soak  them 
a  while,  and  then  pour  off  the  water  into 
bottles.  Cob-coals  make  the  very  best  of 
pearlash." 

How  queer  that  seems  to  us !  "Why 
didn't  Mrs.  Lyman  send  to  the  store  and 
buy  soda?  Because  in  those  days  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  soda. 

"  But  as  for  Patience,"  said  she,  "  I  really 
don't  see,  Moses,  how  I  can  have  her  stay 
at  home  this  week.  Eachel  weaving, 


THE    BROKEN    BRIDGE.  33 

Dorcas  is  spinning,  and  the  baby  is  cutting 
a  tooth.  Just  now  my  hands  are  more  than 
full,  my  son." 

Patty  was  delighted  to  hear  that.  It 
never  once  occurred  to  her  to  feel  ashamed 
of  being  such  a  trial  to  everybody.  Dor 
cas  tied  her  hood,  pinned  her  yellow 
blanket  over  her  little  shoulders,  kissed 
her  good  by,  and  oft'  she  trotted  between 
Mary  and  Moses,  full  of  triumph  and  self- 
importance. 

There  was  only  a  half- day's  school  on 
Saturday,  and  as  the  children  were  going 
home  that  noon,  George  said, — 

"I  call  this  rather  slow  getting  ahead. 
Patty  creeps  like  a  snail." 

"  Because  her  feet  are  so  small,"  said 
kind-hearted  Mary. 

"  They  are  twice  as  big  as  common  with 

mud,  I  am  sure,"  returned  George;   where- 
3 


34  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

upon  Silas  laughed ;  for  whatever  either  of 
the  twins  said,  the  other  twin  thought  it 
very  bright  indeed. 

"  There,  don't  plague  her,  Georgie,"  said 
Mary,  "  Moses  and  I  have  got  as  much  as 
we  can  do  to  get  her  home.  I  tell  you 
my  arms  ache  pulling !" 

As  she  spoke  a  frightful  noise  was  heard, 
— not  thunder,  it  was  too  prolonged  for 
that;  it  was  a  deep,  sullen  roar,  heard 
above  the  wail  of  the  wind  like  the  boom 
of  Niagara  Falls.  Very  soon  the  children 
saw  for  themselves  what  it  meant.  The 
ice  was  going  out ! 

There  was  always  more  or  less  excite 
ment  to  these  little  folks, — and,  indeed,  to 
the  grown  folks  too, — in  the  going  out  of 
the  ice,  for  it  usually  went  at  a  time  when 
you  were  least  expecting  it. 

This  was  a  glorious  sight !     The  ice  was 


THE   BROKEN   ERIDGE.  35 

very  thick  and  strong,  and  the  freshet  was 
hurling  it  down  stream  with  great  force. 
The  blocks  were  white  with  a  crust  of  snow 
on  top,  but  they  were  as  blue  at  heart  as 
a  bed  of  violets,  and  tumbled  and  crowded 
one  another  like  an  immense  company  of 
living  things.  The  tide  was  sending  them 
in  between  great  heaps  of  logs,  and  the 
logs  were  trying  to  crush  them  to  pieces, 
while  they  themselves  rushed  headlong  at 
terrible  speed.  The  sun  came  out  of  a 
cloud,  and  shone  on  the  ice  and  logs  in 
their  mad  dance.  Then  the  white  blocks 
quivered  and  sparkled  like  diamonds,  and 
the  twins  cried  out  together,  "How  splen 
did!" 

"  Pretty  !  pretty  !  "  chimed  in  little  Patty, 
falling  face  downwards  into  a  mud  puddle. 

"  Well,  that's  pretty  works/'  said  Moses, 


36  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

picking  her  up,  and  partially  cleansing  her 
with  his  gingham  pocket-handkerchief. 

"  Hallo,  there  !"  shouted  Mr.  Griggs,  the 
toll-gatherer,  appearing  at  the  door  of  his 
small  house  with  both  arms  above  his  head. 
"  Children,  children,  stop  !  Don't  you  come 
anigh  the  bridge  for  your  lives  !" 

"  Oh,  it's  going  off!  its  going  off!  "  cried 
the  five  Lymans  in  concert. 

They  forgot  to  admire  any  longer  the 
magnificent  sight.  The  ice  might  be  glori 
ous  in  its  beauty ;  but,  alas,  it  was  terrible 
in  its  strength ! 

How  co aid  they  get  home  ?  That  was 
the  question.  They  could  see  their  father's 
house  in  the  distance ;  but  how  and  when 
were  they  to  reach  it?  It  might  as  well 
have  been  up  in  the  moon. 

"  They  can't  come  after  us/'  wailed  Mary, 
wringing  her  hands ;  "  'twill  be  days  and 


THE   BROKEN   BRIDGE.  37 


days  before  they  can  put  a  boat  into  this 


river." 


"What  shall  we  do?"  groaned  Moses; 
"  we  can't  sleep  on  the  ground." 

"  With  nothing  to  eat,"  added  George, 
who  remembered  the  brick-red  Indian  pud 
ding  they  were  to  have  had  for  dinner. 

"Don't  be  scared,  children;  go  ahead," 
said  Dr.  Hilton,  from  the  bank. 

"  What !  Would  you  have  'em  risk  their 
lives  ?"  said  the  timid  toll-gatherer.  "Look 
at  them  blocks  crowding  up  against  the 
piers !  Hear  what  a  thunder  they  make  ! 
And  the  logs  swimming  down  in  booms! 
You  step  into  our  house,  children,  and  my 
wife  and  the  neighbors,  we'll  contrive  to 
stow  you  away  somewheres." 

Crowds  of  people  were  collecting  on 
the  bank  watching  the  ice  go  out. 

"  Well,  you  are  in  a  pretty  fix,  children," 


38  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

said  one  of  the  men.  "  How  did  your  folks 
happen  to  let  you  come  ?" 

The  Lymans  stood  dumb  and  transfixed. 

"Hurry!  Why  don't  you  step  lively?" 
said  Dr.  Hilton,  and  two  or  three  other 
men. 

"  Stay  where  you  are,  children,"  cried  Mr. 
Chase  and  Dr.  Potter  from  the  other  bank. 

"If  we  could  only  see  father!"  said  one 
of  the  twins.  Brave  as  they  both  thought 
themselves,  the  roaring  torrent  appalled 
them. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  shout  from  the 
other  end  of  the  bridge  as  loud  and  shrill 
as  a  fog-bell :  — 

"Children,  come  home!  George!  Silas! 
Mary  ?  Be  quick  ?" 

It  was  Squire  Lyman's  voice. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?"  cried  Mary,  run 
ning  round  and  round. 


THE   BROKEN    BRIDGE.  39 

"  'Twon't  do  to  risk  it,  neighbor  Lyman," 
screamed  the  toll-gatherer. 

"  Children,  run !  there  is  time,"  answered 
the  father,  hoarsely. 

It  was  Mary  who  called  back  again, 
"  Yes,  father,  we'll  come." 

For  the  twins  did  not  seem  to  feel  clear 
what  to  do.  "He  knows,"  thought  she. 
"  What  father  tells  us  to  do  must  be  right." 

She  stepped  firmly  upon  the  shaking 
bridge.  For  an  instant  Moses  hesitated, 
then  followed  with  Patty;  and  after  him 
came  the  twins,  with  their  teeth  firmly  set. 

"Quick!  quick!"  screamed  Squire  Ly 
man.  "  Run  for  your  lives !" 

"Run!  run!"  echoed  the  people  on  both 
banks;  but  Mr.  Griggs's  tongue  clove  to 
the  roof  of  his  mouth. 

The  roaring  torrent  and  the  high  wind 
together  were  rocking  the  bridge  like  a 


40  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

cradle.  If  it  had  not  been  for  Patty !  All 
the  rest  could  run.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
mud  on  the  child's  shoes  had  turned  to 
lead.  She  hung,  crying  and  struggling,  a 
dead  weight  between  Moses  and  Mary,  who 
pulled  her  forward,  without  letting  her  little 
toddling  feet  touch  the  ground. 

The  small  procession  of  five,  how  eagerly 
everybody  watched  it !  The  poor  toll-gath 
erer,  if  he  had  had  the  courage,  would  have 
run  after  the  children,  and  snatched  them 
back  from  their  doom.  Every  looker-on 
was  anxious ;  yet  all  the  anxiety  of  the 
multitude  could  not  equal  the  agonizing 
suspense  in  that  one  father's  heart.  He 
thought  he  knew  the  strength  of  the  piers  ; 
he  thought  he  could  tell  how  long  they 
would  stand  against  the  ice;  but  what  if 
he  had  made  a  mistake  ? 

The  children  did  not  get  on  quite  as  fast 


THE    BROKEN    BRIDGE.  41 

as  he  had  expected.  Every  moment  seemed 
an  age,  for  they  were  running  for  their 
lives ! 

It  was  over  at  last,  the  bridge  was 
crossed,  the  children  were  safe  ! 

The  toll-gatherer,  and  the  other  people 
on  the  bank,  set  up  a  shout ;  but  Squire 
Lyman  could  not  speak.  He  seized  l>r. 
Potter  by  the  shoulder,  and  sank  back 
against  him,  almost  fainting. 

"Papa!  0,  papa!"  cried  Patty,  whose 
little  heart  scarcely  beat  any  faster  than 
usual,  in  spite  of  all  the  fuss  she  had 
made,  "I  couldn't  help  but  laugh !" 

This  little  speech,  so  babyish  and  "  Patty- 
like,"  brought  Squire  Lyman  to  himself, 
and  he  hugged  the  silly  creature  as  if  she 
stood  for  the  whole  five  children. 

"Father,  it  was  a  tough  one,  I  tell  you," 
said  Silas. 


42  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"0,  father,"  said  Mcses,  "  if  you  knew 
how  we  trembled !  With  that  baby  to  pull 
over,  too !" 

"Til  tell  you  what  I  thought,"  said  Mary, 
catching  her  breath.  "  I  though  my  father 
knew  more  than  the  toll-gatherer,  and  all 
the  other  men.  But  anyway,  if  he  didn't 
know,  I'd  have  done  what  he  said." 

"Bravo  for  my  Polly,"  said  Squire  Ly- 
man,  wiping  his  eyes. 

Just  half  an  hour  after  this,  when  they 
were  all  safe  at  home,  the  bridge  was 
snapped  in  two,  and  went  reeling  down 
stream.  Squire  Lyman  closed  his  eyes 
and  shuddered.  Of  course  no  one  could 
help  thinking  what  might  have  happened 
if  the  children  had  been  a  little  later  ;  arid 
everybody  fell  to  kissing  Patty,  for  that 
had  long  been  a  family  habit  when  any 


THE   BROKEN    BRIDGE.  43 

feeling   came  up  which  was  too  strong  or 
too  deep  to  be  expressed. 

The  next  day,  in  Mrs.  Lyman's  Sunday 
evening  talk  with  the  children,  she  told 
them  the  trust  Mary  had  shown  in  her 
father,  when  he  asked  her  to  cross  the 
bridge,  was  just  the  feeling  we  should 
have  towards  our  heavenly  Father,  who  is 
all-wise,  and  can  never  make  mistakes ; 
and  then  she  gave  them  this  verse  to 
learn  : — 

"Blessed  is  the  man  that  maketh  the  Lord  his  trust." 

Tatty  forgot  the  verse  very  soon ;  but 
Mary  remembered  it  as  long  as  she  lived. 


44  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 


CHAPTER    IY. 

THE   TITHING-MAN 

ONE  summer's  day,  two  years  or  so  after 
this,  Moses  was  half  sick  with  a  "run-round  " 
on  his  finger,  and  consented  to  go  up  in  the 
spinning-chamber  and  play  with  Patty :  he 
never  played  with  girls  when  he  was  well. 
Dorcas  was  at  the  little  flax-wheel  spinning 
linen,  and  Patty  was  in  a  corner  under  the 
eaves,  with  her  rag  babies  spread  out  before 
her, — quite  a  family  of  them  The  oldest 
granddaughter  was  down  with  brain  fever, 
and  she  wanted  Moses  to  bleed  her.  Moses 
did  it  with  great  skill.  "When  he  practiced 
medicine,  he  pursued  the  same  course  Dr. 


DR.  MOSES  BLEEDS  AND  CUPS.  — Page  45. 


THE   TITHING-MAN.  45 

Potter  did,  their  family  physician;  he  bled 
and  "cupped"  Patty's  dolls,  and  gave  them 
strong  doses  of  calomel  and  "jalap." 

"Dorcas,"  said  Dr.  Moses,  looking  up, 
with  his  jackknife  in  the  air,  "what's  a 
witch?" 

"A  witch  ?  Why,  we  call  Patty  a  little 
witch  sometimes  when  she  tangles  the  flax 
and  tries  to  spin." 

"  0,  I  never  !  "  exclaimed  Patty,  "  only 
just  once  I — " 

"No,  no  ;  I  mean  a  real  witch,"  pursued 
Moses.  "  You  know  what  I  mean.  Betsey 
Gould's  mother  puts  Bible  leaves  under  the 
churn  to  keep  'em  out  of  the  butter." 

"  Bible  leaves  !  "  said  Dorcas.  "  How  did 
Mrs.  Gould's  Bible  happen  to  be  torn?  " 

"I  don't  know;  but  she  puts  horseshoes 
top  o'  the  door,  too,"  added  Moses;  "you 
know  she  does,  Dorcas,  and  lots  of  other 


46  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

folks  do  it.  What  sort  of  things  are  witches  ? 
And  what  makes  father  and  mother  laugh 
about  'em,  when  other  folks  are  so  afraid  ?  " 

"Because  father  and  mother  are  wiser 
than  most  of  the  people  in  this  little  town. 
Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  say  it,  Moses,  but 
it's  the  truth/' 

It  was  the  truth,  and  Moses  knew  it  very 
well.  He  was  only  talking  to  amuse  him 
self,  and  to  hear  what  Dorcas  would  say. 
You  must  remember  this  was  more  than 
sixty  years  ago,  and  Perseverance  was  a 
poor  little  struggling  town,  shut  in  among 
the  hills,  where  the  stage  came  only  twice 
a  week,  and  there  were  only  two  news 
papers,  and  not  very  good  schools.  The 
most  intelligent  families,  such  as  the  Ly- 
mans,  Potters,  and  Chases,  laughed  at  the 
idea  of  witches,  but  there  were  some  people 
who  believed  in  them,  and  that  very  night 


THE   TITHING-MAN.  47 

little  Patty   was  to   have  her  head   filled 
with  strange  stories. 

You  remember  Siller  Noonin,  who  was  at 
Squire  Lyman's  when  Patty  was  born? 
She  was  a  widow,  with  not  much  of  a 
home  of  her  own,  and  was  always  going 
about  from  house  to  house  nursing  sick 
people,  and  doing  little  odds  and  ends  of 
work.  To-day  she  had  dropped  in  at  Squire 
Lyman's  to  ask  if  Mrs.  Lyman  had  any 
more  knitting  for  her  to  do.  In  the  nicely 
sanded  sitting-room,  or  "  fore-room,"  as  most 
of  the  people  called  it,  sat  Dr.  Hilton,  lean 
ing  back  upon  the  settle,  trotting  his  foot. 
He  called  himself  a  doctor,  though  I  sup 
pose  he  did  not  know  much  more  about  the 
human  system  than  little  Doctor  Moses,  up 
in  the  spinning-chamber.  When  old  ladies 
were  not  very  well,  he  advised  them  to  take 
"  brandy  and  cloves,  and  snakeroot  and  cin- 


48  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

namon ;  "  and  sometimes,  if  they  happened 
to  feel  better  after  it,  they  thought  Dr. 
Hilton  knew  a  great  deal. 

"You  are  just  the  person — ah,  I  wanted 
to  see,"  said  Dr.  Hilton  to  Priscilla;  "I've 
been  all  round  looking  you  up/' 

"  Now  that's  strange,  for  I  was  on  my  way 
to  your  house,"  said  Siller,  putting  her  hand 
to  her  side.  "I  don't  feel  well  right  here, 
and  I  didn't  know  but  you  could  tell  me  of 
some  good  bitters  to  take." 

Dr.  Hilton  felt  Siller's  pulse,  looked  at 
her  tongue,  and  then  said,  with  a  wise  roll 
of  the  eye,  which  almost  set  Rachel  to 
laughing,  "  I  would  advise  you,  ma'am — 
ah,  to  get  a  quart — ah,  of  good  brandy, 
and  steep  some  cloves  in  it,  and  some — ah, 
— some — ah, — " 

"Snakeroot  and  cinnamon,"  chimed  in 
Rachel,  looking  up  from  her  sewing  with  a 
very  innocent  face. 


THE  TITHING-MAN.  49 

Now  that  was  exactly  what  the  Doctor 
was  going  to  say,  only  he  was  trying  to  say 
it  very  slowly,  so  that  it  would  sound  like 
something  remarkable,  and  he  did  not  like 
to  have  the  words  taken  out  of  his  mouth. 
No  doctor  would  have  liked  it. 

"Well,  well,  young  woman,0  said  he 
rising  from  the  settle  in  a  rage,  "  if  you 
understand  medicine  better  than  I  do,  miss, 
I'll  give  up  my  patients  to  you,  and  you  may 
take  charge  of 'em." 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  Kachel;  "I  only 
wanted  to  help  you.  You  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  part  of  your  bitters." 

It  was  very  rude  of  Rachel  to  make  sport 
of  the  Doctor,  even  though  he  was  only 
a  quack ;  and  her  mother  told  her  afterwards 
she  was  surprised  to  see  she  was  no  more  of 
a  lady. 


50  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"Mark  my  words,  Rachel/'  said  Mrs. 
Lyrnan,  "those  who  are  careless  about 
other  people's  feelings  will  have  very  few 
friends/' 

Rachel  blushed  under  her  mother's  glance, 
and  secretly  wished  she  were  as  careful  of 
her  words  as  her  sweet  sister  Dorcas. 

But  I  was  going  to  tell  you  that  Dr.  Hil 
ton  had  been  looking  for  Priscilla,  because 
he  wished  her  to  go  and  keep  his  house  a 
few  days  while  his  wife  was  gone  on  a  visit. 
Siller  told  Mrs.  Lyman  she  was  always  very 
lonesome  there,  because  there  were  no  chil 
dren  in  the  house  and  begged  that  "  the  two 
small  girls"  might  go  and  stay  with  her  till 
she  got  a  little  used  to  it,— one  night 
would  do. 

Mrs.  Lyman  very  seldom  allowed  Mary  or 
Patience  to  be  gone  over  night;  but  to 
oblige  Priscilla,  who  was  always  such  a  good 


THE    TITIIJLNG-MAN.  51 

friend  of  the  children  in  all  their  little  sick 
nesses,  she  consented. 

"  I  shall  take  them  with  me  to  prayer 
meeting  in  the  evening,"  said  Siller. 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Mrs.  Lyman. 

The  little  girls  had  never  visited  at  Dr. 
Hilton's  before,  and  were  glad  to  go,  but 
Patty  did  not  know  how  much  it  would  cost 
her.  The  house  was  very  nice,  and  the 
white  sand  on  the  parlor  floor  was  traced  in 
patterns  of  roses  and  buds  as  fine  as  a 
velvet  carpet.  On  the  door-stone,  at  the 
east  side  of  the  house,  stood  an  iron  kettle, 
with  flaming  red  flowers  growing  in  it,  as 
bright  as  those  on  Mary's  sampler.  Mary 
said  it  seemed  as  if  the  kettle  had  been 
taken  off  the  stove  and  set  out  there  to 
cool. 

After  a  nice  supper  of  hot  biscuits,  honey, 
cheese,  and  spice-cake,  they  all  started  for 


52  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

prayer  meeting,  locking  the  house  behind 
them ;  for  Dr.  Hilton  had  business  in  the 
next  town,  and  was  to  be  gone  all  night. 

Patty  was  not  in  the  habit  of  sitting  re 
markably  still,  even  at  church  on  the  Sab 
bath  ;  and  as  for  a  prayer  meeting  in  a 
school-house,  she  had  never  attended  one 
before,  and  the  very  idea  of  it  amused  her 
to  begin  with.  It  was  so  funny  to  see 
grown  people  in  those  seats  where  the 
children  sat  in  the  daytime !  Patty  almost 
wondered  if  the  minister  would  not  call 
them  out  in  the  floor  to  recite.  The  ser 
vices  were  long,  and  grew  very  dull.  To 
pass  away  the  time,  she  kept  sliding  off*  the 
back  seat,  which  was  much  too  high  for  her, 
and  bouncing  back  again,  twisting  her  head 
around  to  see  who  was  there,  or  peeping 
through  her  fingers  at  a  little  boy,  who 
peeped  back  again. 


THE   TITIIING-MAN.  53 

Mary  whispered  to  her  to  sit  still,  and 
Siller  Nooniu  shook  her  head ;  but  Patty  did 
not  consider  Mary  worth  minding,  and  had 
no  particular  respect  for  Siller.  Finally, 
just  at  the  close  of  a  long  prayer,  she  hap 
pened  to  spy  Daddy  Wiggins,  who  was 
sleeping  with  his  mouth  open,  and  the  sight 
was  too  much  for  Patty :  she  giggled  out 
right.  It  was  a  very  faint  laugh,  hardly 
louder  than  the  chirp  of  a  cricket;  but  it 
reached  the  sharp  ears  of  Deacon  Turner, 
the  tithing-man, — the  same  one  who  sat  in 
church  watching  to  see  if  the  children  be 
haved  well,  and  he  called  right  out  in  meet 
ing,  in  a  dreadful  voice, — 

"  Patience  Lyman  !  " 

If  he  had  fired  a  gun  at  her  head  it  would 
not  have  startled  her  more.  It  was  the  first 
time  she  had  ever  been  spoken  to  in  public, 
and  she  sank  back  in  Mary's  arms,  feeling 


54  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER 

that  all  was  over  with  her.  Other  little 
girls  had  had  their  names  called  out,  but 
they  were  generally  those  whose  parents  did 
not  take  proper  care  of  them, — rude  chil 
dren,  and  not  the  sort  with  whom  Patty 
associated. 

O,  what  would  her  mother  say?  "Was 
there  any  place  where  she  could  go  and 
hide  ?  Sally  Potter  would  never  speak  to 
her  again,  and  Linda  Chase  would  think  she 
was  a  heathen  child. 

She  didn't  care  whether  she  ever  had  any 
new  clothes  to  wear  or  not;  what  difference 
would  it  make  to  anybody  that  lived  out  in 
the  barn  ?  And  that  was  where  she  meant 
to  live  all-  the  rest  of  her  days, — in  one  of 
the  haymows. 

Kind  sister  Mary  kept  her  arm  round  the 
sobbing  child,  and  comforted  her,  as  well  as 
she  could,  by  little  hugs.  The  meeting  was 


THE   TITIIING-MAN.  55 

soon  over,  and  Patty  was  relieved  to  find 
that  she  had  the  use  of  her  feet.  So  crushed 
as  she  had  been  by  this  terrible  blow,  she 
had  hardly  supposed  she  should  be  able  to 
walk. 


56  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 


CHAPTER    V. 

A   WITCH-TALK. 

"  IT  was  real  mean  and  hateful  of  Deacon 
Turner/5  says  Mary,  as  they  went  back  to 
Dr.  Hilton's.  "  You  didn't  giggle  any,  hard 
ly,  and  he  knew  you  didn't  mean  to.  Til 
tell  father,  and  he  won't  like  it  one  bit/' 

Patty  choked  back  a  sob.  This  was  a 
new  way  of  looking  at  things,  and  made 
them  seem  a  little  less  dreadful.  Perhaps 
she  wouldn't  stay  in  the  barn  forever ;  pos 
sibly  not  more  than  a  year  or  two. 

"Deacon  Turner  is  a  very  ha'sh  man," 
said  Siller;  "but  if  he'd  stopped  to  think 
twice,  he  wouldn't  have  spoken  out  so  to 


A   WITCH-TALK.  57 

one  of  you  children ;  for  you  see  your 
father  is  about  the  best  friend  he's  got. 
He  likes  to  keep  on  the  right  side  of 
Squire  Lyman,  and  he  must  have  spoke 
out  before  he  thought.5' 

Patty  drew  a  long  breath.  She  began 
to  think  the  Deacon  was  the  one  to  blame, 
and  she  hadn't  done  any  thing  so  very  bad 
after  all,  and  would't  live  in  the  barn 
more  than  a  day  or  two,  if  she  did  as  long 
as  that. 

She  was  glad  she  was  not  going  homo 
to-night  to  be  seen  by  any  of  the  family, 
especially  Rachel.  By  the  time  they  reached 
Dr.  Hilton's  she  was  quite  calm,  and  when 
Siller  asked  her  if  she  would  like  some 
pancakes  for  breakfast,  she  danced,  and 
said,  "  0,  yes,  ma'am,"  in  her  natural 
voice. 

But,  as  Siller  said,  they  were  all  rather 


58  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

stirred  up,  and  wouldn't  be  in  a  hurry  about 
going  to  bed.  Perhaps  the  blackberry  tea 
they  had  drunk  at  supper  time  was  too 
strong  for  Siller's  nerves ;  at  any  rate,  she 
felt  so  wide  awake  that  she  chose  to  sit  up 
knitting,  with  Patty  in  her  lap,  and  did  not 
perceive  that  both  the  children  were  grow 
ing  sleepy. 

It  was  a  lovely  evening,  and  the  bright 
moon  sailing  across  the  blue  sky  sot  the 
simple  woman  to  thinking, — not  of  the 
great  and  good  God  of  whom  she  had  been 
hearing  this  evening,  but,  I  am  ashamed  to 
say,  of  witches ! 

"  I'm  glad  I've  got  company,"  said  she, 
nodding  to  Mary,  "for  there's  kind  of  a 
creeping  feeling  goes  over  me  such  shiny 
nights  as  this.  It's  just  the  time  for  Goody 
Knowles  to  be  out  on  a  broomstick." 

"Why,  Siller  Noonin,"  exclaimed  Mary, 


A   WITCH-TALK.  59 

"you  don't  believe  in  such  foolishness  as 
that !  I  never  knew  you  did  before  !" 

Siller  did  not  answer,  for  she  suddenly 
remembered  that  Mrs.  Lyman  was  very 
particular  as  to  what  was  said  before  her 
children. 

"Tell  me,  Siller;  you  don't  suppose 
witches  go  flying  round  when  the  moon 
shines?"  asked  Mary,  curling  her  lip. 

"  That's  what  folks  say,  child." 

"  Well,  I  do  declare,  Siller,  I  thought 
you  had  more  sense." 

Mrs.  Noonin's  black  eyes  sparkled  with 


anger. 


"  That's  free  kind  of  talk  for  a  little  girl 
that's  some  related  to  Sir  William  Phips; 
that  used  to  be  Governor  of  this  Common 
wealth  of  Massachusetts,"  said  she. 

"  I  never  heard  of  Mr.  Phips." 

"  Well,  that's  nothing  strange.     He  died 


60  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

over  a  hundred  years  ago ;  but  he  didn't 
make  fun  of  witches,  I  can  tell  you.  He 
had  'em  chained  up  so  they  couldn't  hurt 
folks." 

"  Hurt  folks  ?"  said  little  Patty. 

"  Yes ;  you  know  witches  have  a  way  of 
taking  various  shapes,  such  as  cats  and 
dogs,  and  all  sorts  of  creeturs,  and  going 
about  doing  mischief,"  said  Siller,  with  a 
solemn  click  of  her  knitting-needles. 

Mary's  nose  went  farther  up  in  the  air. 
She  had  heard  plenty  about  the  Salem 
Witchcraft,  and  knew  the  stories  were  all 
as  silly  as  silly  can  be. 

"  Didn't  you  never  hear  tell  of  that  Joan 
of  Arc  over  there  to  Salem  ?"  went  on 
Siller,  who  knew  no  more  about  history 
than  a  baby. 

"  We've  heard  of  Noah's  ark,"  put  in 
Patty. 


A   WITCH-TALK.  61 

"  "Well,  Joan  was  a  witch,  and  took  the 
shape  of  a  man,  and  marched  at  the  head 
of  an  army,  all  so  grand  ;  but  she  got  found 
out,  and  they  burnt  her  up.  It  was  fifty 
years  ago  or  more/' 

"Beg  your  pardon,  Siller;  but  it  was 
almost  four  hundred  years  ago,"  said  Mary ; 
"  and  it  wasn't  in  this  country  either,  'twas 
in  France.  Mother  told  me  all  about  it ; 
she  read  it  in  a  book  of  history." 

Siller  looked  extremely  mortified,  and 
picked  up  a  stitch  without  speaking. 

"And  besides  that,"  said  Mary,  "Joan  of 
Arc  was  a  beautiful  young  girl,  and  not  a 
witch.  I  know  some  of  the  people  called 
her  so ;  but  mother  says  they  were  very 
foolish  and  wicked/' 

"  Well,  I  ain't  a  going  to  dispute  your 
mother  in  her  opinion  of  witches ;  she 
knows  twice  to  my  once  about  books ;  but 


62  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

that  ain't  saying  she  knows  everything, 
Polly  Lyman,"  returned  Siller,  laying  down 
her  knitting  in  her  excitement ;  "  and  'twill 
take  more'n  your  mother  to  beat  me  out  of 
my  seven  senses,  when  I've  seen  witches 
with  my  own  naked  eyes,  and  heard  'em 
a  talking  to  their  gray  cats." 

"  "Where  ?     0,  where  ?"  cried  little  Patty. 

All  the  "  witch"  Siller  had  ever  seen  was 
an  Englishwoman  by  the  name  of  Knowles, 
and  the  most  she  ever  heard  her  say  to  her 

cat  was  "  Poor  pussy."  But  Siller  did  not 
like  to  be  laughed  at  by  a  little  girl  like 
Polly  Lyman ;  so  she  tried  to  make  it 
appear  that  she  really  knew  some  remark 
able  things. 

"  Well,"  said  Mary,  "  I  don't  see  why  a 
gray  cat  is  any  worse  to  talk  to  than  a 
white  one:  why  is  it?  Mrs.  Knowles  asked 
my  mother  if  it  was  Having  a  gray  cat  that 


A   WITCH-TALK.  63 

made  folks  call  her  a  witch.  —  Siller,  Mrs. 
Knowles  wasn't  the  woman  you  meant,  when 
you  said  you'd  seen  a  witch  ?" 

"Perhaps  so  —  perhaps  not.  But  what 
did  your  mother  say  when  Mrs.  Knowles 
asked  her  that  question  ?" 

"  Why,  mother  laughed,  and  told  Mrs. 
Knowles  not  to  part  with  her  gray  cat,  if 
it  was  good  to  catch  mice." 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  know  your  mother  don't 
believe  any  of  these  things  that's  going; 
but  either  Goody  Knowles  is  a  witch,  or 
else  I  am,"  said  Siller,  her  tongue  fairly 
running  away  with  her. 

"  Why,  Siller  Noonin,  what  makes  you 
think  so  ?" 

"  Well,  for  one  thing,  she  can't  shed  but 
three  tears,  and  them  out  of  her  left  eye," 
said  Siller;  "that  I  know  to  be  a  fact,  for 
I've  watched  her,  and  it's  a  sure  sign. 


64  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

Then  Daddy  Wiggins,  he  weighed  her  once 
against  the  church  Bible,  and  she  was  the 
lightest,  and  that's  another  sure  sign.  More 
over,  he  tried  her  on  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
and  she  couldn't  go  through  it  straight  to 
save  her  life.  Did  you  ever  mind  Goody 
Knowles's  face,  how  it's  covered  with 
moles?" 

"  Do  you  mean  those  little  brown  things," 
cried  Patty,  "  with  hair  in  the  middle  ?  Iv'e 
seen  'em  lots  of  times ;  on  her  chin,  too." 

"Yes,  dear.  Well,  Polly,  there  never 
was  a  witch  that  didn't  have  moles  and 
warts." 

"  But  what  does  Mrs.  Knowles  do  that's 
bad  ? "  says  Mary,  laughing  a  little,  but 
growing  very  much  interested. 

"  Well,  she  has  been  known  to  bewitch 
cattle,  as  perhaps  you  may  have  heard. 
Last  spring  Daddy  Wiggins's  cows  crept 


A   WITCH-TALK.  65 

up  the  scaffold,  —  a  thing  cows  never  did 
afore." 

"  0,  but  my  father  laughed  about  that. 
He  said  he  guessed  if  Mr.  "Wiggins's  cows 
had  had  hay  enough,  they  wouldn't  have 
gone  out  after  some  more  ;  they'd  have  staid 
in  the  stalls." 

"  It  will  do  very  well  for  your  father  to 
talk/'  returned  Siller,  who  was  growing 
more  and  more  excited.  "  Of  course  Goody 
Knowles  wouldn't  bewitch  any  of  his  cree- 
turs;  it's  only  her  enemies  she  injures. 
And  that  makes  me  think,  children,  that 
it's  kind  of  eurious  for  us  to  be  sitting 
here  talking  about  her.  She  may  be  up 
on  the  ridge-pole  of  the  house,  —  she  or 
one  of  her  imps,  —  a  hearing  every  word 
we  say." 

"  0,  dear  !  0,  dear  !"  cried  Patty,  curling 
her  head  under  Siller's  cape. 


66  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"Nonsense,  child.  I  was  only  in  fun/' 
said  the  thoughtless  Siller,  beginning  to  feel 
ashamed  of  herself,  for  she  had  not  intended 
to  talk  in  this  way  to  the  children ;  "  don't 
lets  think  any  more  about  it." 

And  with  that  she  hurried  the  little  girls 
off  to  bed ;  but  by  this  time  their  eyes  were 
pretty  wide  open,  as  you  may  suppose. 


A  WITCH-FRIGHT.  67 


CHAPTER   VI. 

A  WITCH-FRIGHT. 

Patty  had  forgotten  all  about  her  deep 
mortification,  and   never  even  thought  of 
Deacon  Turner,  the  tithing-man. 

"Hark!"  whispered  she  to  Mary,  "don't 
you  hear  'em  walking  on  the  roof  of  the 
house  ?" 

"  Hear  what  ?"  said  Mary,  sternly. 

"  Those  things  Siller  calls  creeturs — on 
broomsticks,"  returned  Patty. 

"  Nonsense;  go  to  sle^ep,  child." 

Mary  was  too  well  instructed  to  be  really 
afraid  of  witches  ;  still  she  lay  awake  an 
hour  or  two  thinking  over  what  Siller  had 


08  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

said,  and  hearing  her  cough  drearily  in  the 
next  chamber.  Little  Patty  was  sleeping 
sweetly,  but  Mary's  nerves  were  quivering, 
she  did  not  know  why,  and 

"  All  things  were  full  of  horror  and  affright, 
And  dreadful  even  the  silence  of  the  night." 

As  she  lay  wishing  herself  safe  at  home  in 
her  own  bed,  there  was  a  sudden  noise  out 
side  her  window, — the  sound  of  heavy  foot 
steps.  Who  could  be  walking  there  at  that 
time  of  night  ?  If  it  was  a  man,  he  must 
want  to  steal.  Mary  did  not  for  a  moment 
fancy  it  might  be  a  woman,  or  a  "creetur  " 
on  a  broomstick, — she  was  too  sensible  for 
that ;  but  you  will  not  wonder  that,  as  she 
heard  the  footsteps  come  nearer  and  nearer, 
her  heart  almost  stopped  beating  from  fright. 
Siller  had  not  coughed  for  some  time,  and 
was  very  likely  asleep.  If  so,  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost. 


A   WITCH-FRIGHT.  69 

Mary  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  ran 
down  stairs,  whispering,  "  Fire  !  Murder ! 
Thieves  I" 

That  wakened  Patty,  who  ran  after  her, 
clutching  at  her  night-dress,  and  crying 
out,  "A  fief!  A  fief!" 

For  she  had  lost  a  front  tooth  the  day 
before,  and  could  not  say  "thief." 

It  was  a  wonder  they  both  did  not  fall 
headlong,  going  at  such  speed. 

Siller  was  in  the  kitchen,  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  with  a  red  cloak  on, 
staring  straight  before  her,  with  a  white, 
scared  look. 

"Hush,  children,  for  mercy's  sake!"  she 
whispered,  putting  her  handkerchief  over 
Patty's  mouth,  "  we're  in  a  terrible  fix ! 
It's  either  thieves  or  murderers,  or  else 
it's  witches.  Yes,  Polly  Lyman,  witches  I" 


70  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"  I  don't  hear  the  steps  now/'  said  Mary. 
"  O,  yes  I  do,  too ;  yes  I  do,  too." 

By  that  time  there  was  a  loud  knocking. 

"It  must  be  witches;  thieves  wouldn't 
knock/'  whispered  Siller,  tearing  her  back 
hair.  "Hear  'em  rattle  that  door!  That 
was  what  it  meant  when  I  saw  that  black 
cat,  just  before  sundown,  worritting  the 
doctor's  dog.  I  thought  then  it  was  an 
imp." 

The  door  continued  to  rattle,  and  the 
children's  teeth  to  chatter;  also  Sillers, 
all  she  had  left  in  her  head. 

"  0,  IF  we  had  a  silver  bullet,"  said  she, 
"  that  would  clear  'em  out." 

Poor  little  Patty  !  You  may  guess  at  the 
state  of  her  mind  when  I  tell  you  she  was 
speechless  !  For  almost  the  first  time  in  her 
life  she  was  too  frightened  to  scream. 

The  knocking  grew  louder  and  louder; 


A   WITCH-FRIGHT.  71 

and  Siller,  seeing  that  something  must  be 
done,  and  she  was  the  only  one  to  do  it, 
began  to  behave  like  a  woman, 

"  Stop  shaking  so,  children,"  said  she,  with 
a  sudden  show  of  courage.  "Keep  a  stiff 
upper  lip !  I've  got  an  idea !  It  may  be 
flesh  and  blood  thieves  come  after  the  doc 
tor's  chany  tea-cups !" 

"  0,  throw  them  out  the  window/'  gasped 
Mary. 

"No,  Polly;  not  while  I'm  a  live  woman/' 
replied  Siller,  who  really  had  some  sense 
when  she  could  forget  her  fear  of  hobgob 
lins.  "  Into  the  Hampshire,  both  of  you, 
and  let  me  button  you  in." 

The  "  Hampshire  "  was  a  large  cupboard, 
the  lower  part  of  which  was  half  filled  with 
boxes  and  buckets;  but  the  children  con 
trived  to  squeeze  themselves  into  it. 

"It  isn't  fair,  though/'  said  Mary,  putting 


72  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

her  head  out.  "  I  ought  to  help  you,  Siller. 
Give  me  the  shovel  and  tongs,  and  I  will." 

Siller  only  answered  by  buttoning  the 
hampshire  door. 

Patty,  feeling  safer,  screamed  "Fief!" 
once  more ;  and  Mary  gave  her  a  shaking, 
which  caused  the  child  to  bite  her  tongue ; 
after  which  Mary  hugged  and  kissed  her  with 
the  deepest  remorse. 

"Who  knew  how  long  either  of  them  had 
to  live?  What  if  the  man  should  break 
down  the  kitchen  door  and  get  into  the 
house  ?  He  was  knocking  harder  than  ever, 
and  had  been  calling  out  several  times, — 

"  Let  me  in  !     Why  don't  you  let  me  in  ?  " 

"There,  I  do  declare,  that  sounds  like 
Dr.  Hilton,"  whispered  Mary  to  Patty. 

And  sure  enough,  next  moment  the  voice 
of  Siller  was  heard  exclaiming,  in  the  utmost 
surprise, — 


A   WITCH-FBIGHT.  73 

"  Bless  me,  doctor,  you  don't  mean  to  say 
that's  you  !  " 

It  was  the  most  welcome  sound  that  the 
little  prisoners  in  the  "  hampshire "  could 
possibly  have  heard.  And  the  laugh,  gruff 
and  cracked,  which  came  from  the  doctor's 
throat,  as  soon  as  he  got  fairly  into  the 
house,  was  sweeter  than  the  song  of  a  night 
ingale. 

"  Let  us  out !  Let  us  out !  "  cried  they, 
knocking  to  be  let  out  as  hard  as  the  doctor 
had  knocked  to  be  let  in,  for  Mary  was  beat 
ing  the  door  with  a  bucket  of  sugar  and 
Patty  with  a  pewter  porringer.  But  Siller 
was  "  all  of  a  fluster/'  and  it  was  the  doctor 
himself  who  opened  the  hampshire  doors 
after  the  little  girls  had  almost  pounded 
them  down. 

They  were  both  ashamed  to  be  caught  in 
their  night-dresses,  and  ran  up  stairs  as 


74  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

fast  as  they  could  go,  but  on  the  way 
overheard  the  doctor  reproving  Siller  for 
giving  "  those  innocent  little  children  such  a 
scare."  He  was  not  a  wise  man,  by  any 
means,  but  he  had  good  common  sense. 

"  It  is  lucky  my  wife  don't  believe  in 
witches,"  said  he,  "  for  I'm  as  likely  to  corne 
home  late  at  night  as  any  way,  and  she'd  be 
in  hot  water  half  her  time." 

Next  morning  the  children  were  very  glad 
to  go  home,  and  Mary,  though  she  would 
hardly  have  said  so  to  any  one,  could  not 
help  thinking  she  should  never  like  Siller 
Noonin  quite  so  well  after  this  as  she  had 
done  before. 

They  were  climbing  the  fence  to  run 
across  the  fields,  when  some  one  said, — 

"  Patience  Lyman  ! " 

It  was  Deacon  Turner,  the  tithing-man ; 
but  his  voice  was  very  mild  this  morning, 


A   WITCH-FRIGHT.  75 

arid  lie  did  not  look  like  the  same  man  Patty 
had  seen  at  prayer  meeting.  His  face  was 
almost  smiling,  and  he  had  a  double  red 
rose  in  his  hand. 

"  Good  morning,  little  ladies,"  said  he, 
giving  the  rose  to  Patty,  who  blushed  as  red 
as  the  rose  herself,  and  hung  her  head  in 
bashful  shame. 

"Thank  you,  sir/'  she  stammered. 

"I  can't  bring  myself  to  believe  you 
meant  to  disturb  the  meetin'  last  night/' 
said  the  deacon,  taking  her  unwilling  little 
hand. 

"No,  O,  no!"  replied  Patty,  with  drip 
ping  eyes. 

"It  was  in  the  school-'us,  but  then  the 
school-'us  is  just  as  sacred  as  the  meetin'-'us, 
when  it's  used  for  religious  purposes.  I'm 
afeared,  Patience,  you  forgot  you  went  there 
to  hold  communion  'long  of  His  saints.  I'm 


76  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

afeared  your  mind  warn't  in  a  fit  state  to 
receive  much  benefit  from  the  occasion." 

Patty  felt  extremely  uncomfortable.  Good 
Deacon  Turner  seldom  took  the  least  notice 
of  children — having  none  of  his  own,  and 
no  nieces  or  nephews; — and  when  he  did 
try  to  talk  to  little  folks,  he  always  made  a 
sad  piece  of  work  of  it.  He  did  not  know 
how  to  put  himself  in  sympathy  with  them, 
and  could  not  remember  how  he  used  to 
feel  when  he  was  young. 

"We  shall  always  be  glad  to  see  you  at 
the  regular  "Wednesday  evenin'  prayer 
meeting"  said  he,  "  or  to  the  prayer  meetings 
in  the  school'-us ;  but  you  must  remember 
it  ain't  like  a  meetin'  for  seckler  pupposes, 
Patience, — it's  for  prayer,  and  praise,  and 
the  singing  of  psalms ;  and  you  should  con 
duct  yourself  in  a  circumspect  and  becoming 
manner,  as  is  fittin'  for  the  house  of  wor- 


A   WITCH-FRIGHT.  77 

ship  ;  and  remember  and  feel  that  it's  a 
privilege  for  you  to  be  there." 

This  was  about  the  way  the  deacon  talked 
to  Patty,  and  of  course  she  did  not  under 
stand  one  word  of  it.  She  tells  Flyaway 
Clifford  and  Dotty  Dimple  that  grown  peo 
ple  in  old  times  almost  always  talked  "too 
old,"  and  children  were  afraid  of  them. 

"  Yes,  my  child,"  added  the  deacon,  "  you 
should  realize  that  it  is  a  precious  privilege, 
and  feel  to  say  with  the  Psalmist, — 

"'I  joyed  when  to  the  house  of  God, 

Go  up,  they  said  to  me ; 
Jerusalem,  within  thy  walls, 
Our  feet  shall  standing  be."' 

Patty  was  crying  by  this  time  very  loud, 
and  there  was  a  certain  babyish  sound  in  her 
wail  which  suddenly  reminded  Deacon  Tur 
ner  that  he  was  talking  to  a  little  girl,  and 
not  to  a  young  woman. 


78  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"  There,  there,  now,  don't  cry/'  said  he, 
patting  her  head,  for  her  sun-bonnet  had 
fallen  back  on  her  neck,  "  you  didn't  mean 
to  make  fun  of  religion  ;  I'm  sartiu  sure  of 
that." 

"  No,  I  di-idn't,  or  if  I  did,  I  di-idn't  mean 
to,"  almost  howled  Patty. 

A  grim  smile  overspread  the  deacon's 
face.  The  idea  of  an  infant  like  that  mak 
ing  fun  of  religion ! 

"Somehow  I  was  thinkin'  you  waa  an 
older  child  than  what  you  be,"  said  he,  rub 
bing  her  silky  hair  as  roughly  as  a  plough 
would  go  through  a  bed  of  flowers.  The 
action  almost  drove  Patty  wild,  but  the  good 
man  meant  it  most  kindly. 

"Let's  see,  I  suppose  you  know  your  let 
ters  now?"  added  he,  going  to  the  other 
extreme,  and  talking  to  her  as  if  she  were 
very  young  indeed.  "And,  of  course,  your 


A   WITCH-FRIGHT.  79 

mother,  who  is  a  godly  woman,  has  you 
say  your  catechism.  Do  you  remember,  my 
dear,  who  made  you  ?  " 

The  question  caused  Patty  to  raise  her 
tearful  eyes  in  astonishment.  Did  he  think  a 
girl  six  and  a  half  years  old  didn't  know  that  ? 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  she,  meekly ;  u  God  made 
me/' 

"  Right,  my  dear ;  that's  well  said.  You're 
not  such  a  bad  child  after  all,  and  seem  to 
have  considerable  sense.  Here  is  a  dollar 
for  you,  my  little  woman,  and  tell  your 
mother  I  know  she's  bringing  you  up  in 
the  way  you  should  go,  and  I  hope  when 
you  are  old  you'll  not  depart  from  it." 

Patty  stared  at  the  dollar  through  her 
tears,  and  it  seemed  to  stare  back  again  with 
a  face  almost  as  big  as  a  full  moon. 

"  0,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  she,  with  a  deep 
courtesy. 


80  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

Never  in  her  life  had  she  owned  a  whole 
silver  dollar  before.  How  it  danced  and 
shone !  She  held  it  tight,  for  it  did  not 
seem  to  be  real,  and  she  was  afraid  it  would 
melt  or  fly  away  before  she  could  get  it 
home. 

u  Mother,  O  mother/'  cried  she,  "  see  this 
live  dollar !  Deacon  Turner  gave  it  to  me 
for  remembering  who  made  me !  " 

"  Why,  child,  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  She  means  just  what  she  says,  mother/' 
said  Mary.  "  Deacon  Turner  spoke  to  her 
in  prayer  meeting  last  night — ' 

"  Why,  Patience  !  " 

"  And  he  was  sorry  for  it,  mother,  just  as 
Siller  thought  he'd  be ;  and  so  he  wanted  to 
give  her  something  to  make  up,  I  suppose  ; 
but  should  yon  have  thought  he'd  have  given 
her  that  dollar?" 

Mrs.   Lyman  was   grieved  to  learn    that 


A   WITCH-FRIGHT.  81 

Patty  had  been  so  restless  and  so  irreverent, 
and  called  her  into  the  bedroom  to  talk 
with  her  about  it. 

"  My  little  girl  is  old  enough  to  begin  to 
think,"  said  she. 

"Yes,  mother,"  said  Patty,  laying  the  sil 
ver  dollar  against  her  cheek,  "I  do  think." 

"But,  Patience,  you  knew  the  people  had 
met  in  that  schoolhouse  to  talk  about  God ; 
you  should  have  listened  to  what  they  were 
saying." 

"But,  mamma,  the  words  were  too  big; 
I  can't  understand  such  big  words." 

"  Well,  then,  my  daughter,  you  certainly 
could  have  sat  still,  and  let  other  people 
listen. " 

Patty  hung  her  head. 

"  Has  a  child  any  right  to  go  where'  good 
people  are  worshipping  God,  and  behave  so 

badly  as  to  disturb  them  ?  " 
6 


82  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"  No,  mamma." 

Patty    was     crying    again,    and    almost 

thought   the  barn  would  be  the  best   place 

i 
for  her  to  live  in.     Even  her  "  live  dollar  " 

could  not  console  her  when  her  mother  spoke 
in  such  a  tone  as  that. 

"I'll  never  make  any  more  disturbment, 
mamma,"  said  she,  in  a  broken-hearted  tone. 

a  I  hope  you'll  remember  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Lyman,  taking  the  child's  two  hands  in 
hers,  and  pressing  them  earnestly. 

Patty  was  afraid  she  was  about  to  deprive 
her  of  the  precious  dollar ;  but  Mrs.  Lyman 
did  not  do  it;  she  thought  Patty  would 
remember  without  such  a  hard  punishment 
as  that. 


THE   SILK   POCKET.  83 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE    SILK    POCKET. 

WHEN  Mrs.  Lyman  heard  what  a  fright 
the  children  had  had  at  Dr.  Hilton's  she 
was  much  displeased,  and  forbade  Siller 
Noonin  ever  to  talk  to  them  again  about 
witches.  Siller  confessed  she  had  done 
wrong,  and  "  hoped  Mrs.  Lyman  wouldn't 
lay  it  up  against  her/' 

Patty  said, — 

"  Poh,  she  couldn't  scare  ME  !  I  flied  on 
a  broomstick  my  own  self,  and  I  tumbled 
off.  '  Course  Mrs.  Knowles  can't  do  it ;  big 
folks  like  her !  " 

At  the  same  time  Patty  did  not  like  to 


84  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

see  Mrs.  Knowles  come  to  the  house.  It 
wasn't  likely  she  had  ever  "  filed  on  a  broom 
stick;"  but  when  Mrs.  Lyman  walked  out 
with  the  good  woman,  as  she  sometimes  did, 
Patty  was  uneasy  till  she  got  home  again. 
Nobody  suspected  the  little  girl  of  such 
foolishness,  and  she  never  told  of  it  till 
years  after,  when  she  was  a  tall  young 
lady,  and  did  not  mind  being  laughed  at 
for  her  childish  ideas. 

But  perhaps  you  would  like  to  know 
what  became  of  her  live  dollar.  She  did 
not  know  what  to  do  with  ^so  much  money, 
and  talked  about  it  first  to  one  and  then 
to  another. 

"Moses,"  said  she,  "which  would  you 
rawer  do,  have  me  have  a  hundred  cents, 
and  you  have  ninety-nine  cents,  or  me  have 
ninety-nine  cents,  and  you  have  a  hun 
dred  ?  " 


THE    SILK    POCKET.  85 

Moses  appeared  to  think  hard  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  said, — 

"  Well,  I  guess  I'd  rather  you'd  have  the 
hundred." 

"  0,  would  you  ?  "  cried  Patty,  kissing  him 
gratefully. 

"Yes,"  said  Moses;  "for  if  I  had  the 
most,  you'd  be  teasing  me  for  the  odd  cent." 

The  dollar  burnt  Patty's  fingers.  Some 
days  she  thought  she  would  give  it  to  the 
heathen,  and  other  days  she  wondered  if 
it  would  be  wrong  to  spend  it  for  candy. 
Sometimes  she  meant  to  buy  a  pair  of  silver 
shoe-buckles  for  her  darling  Moses,  and  then 
again  a  Vandyke  for  her  darling  Mary.  In 
short,  she  could  not  decide  what  to  do  with 
such  a  vast  sum  of  money. 

One  day  there  came  to  the  house  a  beggar 
girl,  a  little  image  of  dirt  and  rags.  She 
told  a  pitiful  story  about  a  dead  mother  and 


86  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

a  drunken  father,  and  nobody  could  know 
that  it  was  quite  untrue,  and  her  mother  was 
alive,  and  waiting  for  her  two  miles  away. 

Patty  was  so  much  interested  in  the  little 
girl's  story,  that  she  almost  wanted  to  give 
her  the  silver  dollar  on  the  spot,  but  not 
quite.  She  ran  into  the  bed-room  to  ask  her 
mother  what  it  was  best  to  do. 

"  Why,  I  thought  I  fastened  that  door," 
cried  John,  flourishing  a  paint-brush  in  her 
face.  "  Scamper,  or  you'll  get  some  paint 
on  your  gown." 

Patty  scampered,  but  not  before  she  had 
stained  her  dress. 

"  "Where  is  mother  ?  "  asked  she  of  Dorcas. 

"In  the  parlor;  but  don't  go  in  there, 
child,  for  the  doctor's  wife  is  making  a 
call,  and  Mrs.  Chase,  too/' 

Patty  did  not  wait  for  Dorcas  to  finish 
the  sentence,  but  rushed  into  the  parlor,  out 


THE    SILK    POCKET.  87 

of  breath.  I  am  afraid  she  was  rather  glad 
to  let  the  doctor's  wife  know  she  had  some 
money,  and  thought  of  giving  it  away. 
Patty  was  not  a  bold  child,  but  there  were 
times  when  she  did  like  to  show  off. 

"  O,  mother,  mother!"  cried  she,  without 
stopping  to  look  at  the  ladies.  "Let  me 
have  my  silver  dollar  this  minute  !  'Cause 
there's  a  poor  little  — " 

"  My  child,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  in  a  tone 
which  checked  Patty,  and  made  her  blush 
to  the  roots  of  her  yellow  hair. 

"Pray,  let  her  finish  her  story/'  said 
the  doctor's  wife,  drawing  the  little  one  to 
her  side ;  "  it's  something  worth  hearing,  I 
know." 

"  It's  a  little  girl/'  replied  Patty,  casting 
down  her  eyes,  "and  her  mother  is  dead 
and  her  father  is  drunk/' 

Patty  supposed  he  lay  all  the  while  with 


88  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

his  hat  on,  for  she  had  once  seen  a  man 
curled  up  in  a  heap  by  the  roadside,  and 
had  heard  John  say  he  was  drunk. 

"  How  very  sad !"  said  Mrs.  Potter. 

Mrs.  Chase  looked  sorry. 

"  Do  you  say  the  mother  is  dead  ?"  said  she. 

"Yes'm;  the  man  killed  her  to  death 
with  a  jug,  and  then  she  died/'  replied 
Patty,  solemnly. 

"Where  is  the  child?  Something  must 
be  done  about  it  at  once/'  said  Mrs.  Potter, 
a  very  kind  lady,  but  apt  to  speak  without 
much  thought.  "O,  Patty,  dear,  I  am 
glad  you  have  such  a  good  heart.  It  is 
beautiful  to  see  little  children  remembering 
the  words  of  our  Saviour,  6  It  is  more 
blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.' " 

Patty's  eyes  shone  with  delight.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  she  was  a  little  Lady 
Bountiful,  going  about  the  world  taking 


THE    SILK    POCKET.  89 

care  of  the  poor.  She  crept  closer  to 
Mrs.  Potter's  side. 

"I  haven't  but  just  one  silver  dollar/' 
said  she,  in  a  low  voice;  "but  I'd  rawer 
give  it  to  the  little  girl  than  keep  it  my 
self,  I  would  V 

"Bless  your  dear  little  soul,"  said  the 
doctor's  wife,  kissing  Patty ;  but  Mrs.  Chase 
said  nothing ;  and  all  at  once  it  occurred  to 
the  child  that  perhaps  Mrs.  Chase  had  heard 
of  her  being  spoken  to  in  meeting,  and  that 
was  why  she  did  not  praise  hor.  Dreadful 
thought!  It  frightened  Patty  so  that  she 
covered  up  her  face  till  both  the  ladies 
had  gone  away,  for  they  did  not  stay  much 
longer. 

After  the  door  was  closed  upon  them, 
Mrs.  Lyman  said, — 

"Here  is  your  silver  dollar,  Patty,  in 
my  pocket." 


90  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

Patty  fancied  that  her  mother's  voice  was 
rather  cold.  She  had  expected  a  few  words 
of  praise,  or  at  least  a  kiss  and  a  smile. 

"  But  think  a  minute,  Patience.  Are  you 
sure  you  want  to  give  it  away  ?" 

Patty  put  her  fingers  in  her  mouth,  and 
eyed  the  dollar  longingly.  How  large,  and 
round,  and  bright  it  looked  ! 

"  I  thought  I  heard  you  speak  yesterday 
of  buying  Dorcas  a  Vandyke, — or  was  it 
Mary  ? — and  the  day  before  of  getting  some 
shoe-buckles  for  Moses,"  added  Mrs.  Lyman, 
in  the  same  quiet  tones.  "And  only  this 
morning  your  mind  was  running  on  a  jockey 
for  yourself.  Whatever  you  please,  dear. 
Take  time  to  think." 

"  0,  I'd  rawer  have  a  jockey.  I  forgot 
that — a  white  one." 

"And  what  will  become  of  the  poor  little 
girl?" 


THE    SILK   POCKET.  91 

"  0,  I  guess  Dorcas  will  give  her  some 
remmernants  to  eat,  and  folks  all  around  will 
see  to  her,  you  know/' 

"My  child,  my  child,  you  don't  think 
as  you  did  when  those  ladies  were  here. 
Do  you  remember  your  last  Sunday's  verse, 
and  what  I  said  about  it  then  ?" 

Mrs.  Lyman's  voice  was  very  grave. 

Patty  repeated  the  verse, — 

"Take  heed  that  ye  do  not  your  alms 
before  men,  to  be  seen  of  them ;  otherwise, 
ye  have  no  reward  of  your  Father  which  is 
in  heaven/' 

She  knew  very  well  what  it  meant. 

"Doing  alms  before  women  is  just  the 
same  as  doing  'em  before  men,"  thought 
Patty. 

She  had  been  making  pretty  speeches  just 
for  the  sake  of  being  praised,  and  she  didn't 


92  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

care  so  very  much  about  the  beggar  girl 
after  all. 

"lam  going  out  to  see  that  poor  child 
for  myself,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  putting  down 
the  black  silk  pocket  she  was  making  ;  and 
Patty  followed,  with  her  money  clasped  close 
to  her  bosom. 

But  by  that  time  the  dirty- faced  little 
creature  had  gone  away. 

"She  told  wrong  stories,"  said  Dorcas; 
"she  said,  in  the  first  place,  her  mother  was 
dead,  and  afterwards  that  her  mother  was 
sick.'7 

"  Naughty  thing  !  I'm  glad  I  didn't  give 
her  my  silver  dollar!"  exclaimed  Patty; 
though  she  dared  not  look  up,  for  fear  of 
meeting  her  mamma's  eyes. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  child,  to  get  so 
stained  with  paint?"  said  Rachel,  who 
always  saw  things  before  any  one  else 


THE    SILK   POCKET.  93 

did.     "  Come  here,  and  let  me  sponge  your 
gown  with  spirits  of  turpentine." 

"  Strange  I  shouldn't  have  noticed  that," 
said  Mrs.  Lyman.  "I  hope  Mrs.  Potter 
didn't  spoil  her  crape  shawl  when  she  put 
her  arm  round  you,  Patience.'* 

Patty  dropped  her  eyes  with  shame,  to 
think  how  pleased  Mrs.  Potter  had  been 
with  her  just  for  nothing  at  all. 

"  Spirits  turpletine?"  said  she,  making 
believe  she  had  never  heard  the  word 
before.  "Spirits  turpletine?  That  isn't 
angels,  Rachel  ?  Then  what  makes  you  call 
'em  spirits  ?" 

Rachel  knew  the  child  was  talking  for 
the  sake  of  changing  the  subject,  and  she 
would  not  answer  such  a  foolish  question. 

"  Stand  still,  you  little  try-patience," 
said  she,  u  or  I  shall  never  get  off  the 
paint." 


94  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

Mrs.  Lyman  went  back  to  finish  her 
pocket.  Ladies  in  those  days  wore  them 
under  their  dresses,  tied  about  their  waists. 
Mrs.  Lyman's  was  a  very  pretty  one,  of 
quilted  black  silk,  and  when  it  was  done, 
Patty  put  her  dollar  in  it,  and  jingled  it 
beside  a  gold  piece  of  her  mother's. 

"  Which  is  worth  the  most,  mamma  ?"  said 
she,  "  your  dollar  or  my  dollar  ?" 

"  Mine  is  worth  just  twenty  times  as  much 
as  yours." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  that  naughty  girl  hasn't 
got  either  of  'em,"  thought  Patty.  "I'm 
sorry  I  made  believe  good ;  but  I  want  my 
dollar,  and  here  'tis,  all  safe." 

Safe!  Before  night  Patty's  dollar  was 
gone,  and  her  mother's  gold  piece  with  it, 
— pocket  and  all.  It  went  that  very  after 
noon  ;  but  nobody  knew  it  till  Mrs.  Lyman 
was  getting  ready  to  go  to  the  store  two 


THE   SILK   POCKET.  95 

days  afterwards,  and  wanted  her  pocket  to 
put  on. 

When  she  came  into  the  kitchen  and  said 
it  was  not  in  her  bureau  drawer,  and  when 
Rachel,  who  always  did  the  hunting,  had 
looked  everywhere  and  could  not  find  it, 
then  there  was  crying  in  that  house,  you 
may  be  sure.  Patty  said  at  once  the  beggar 
girl  had  taken  the  pocket. 

"  But  how  could  she  ?"  said  Dorcas.  "  She 
was  out  of  sight  and  hearing  before  mother 
began  to  quilt  it." 

"  Well,  then  she  came  back  in  the  night," 
sobbed  Patty. 

"  I  dare  say  Snippet  has  put  it  out  of 
place,"  said  big  brother  James. 

"Yes,  Patty  is  a  great  hand  to  lose 
things,"  said  Rachel. 

"No,  no,  no;  that  niggeramus  girl  came 


96  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

and  took  it;  came  in  the  night/'  persisted 
Patty. 

"  Patience  ! "  said  her  mother,  reproving 
ly  ;  and  then  Patty  had  to  stop. 

She  mourned  only  for  the  silver  dollar. 
She  would  have  mourned  for  the  gold  piece 
too,  if  she  had  known  that  her  mother 
intended  to  buy  fall  clothes  with  it  for  the 
little  girls.  It  was  as  well  Patty  did  not 
know  this,  for  she  had  as  much  already  as 
she  could  bear. 

Priscilla  Noonin  came  over  that  afternoon 
with  her  knitting.  "  It  was  midsummer,  and 
the  hay  was  down,"  and  there  were  two  men 
helping  get  it  into  the  barn.  One  of  the 
men  was  tall  and  well  formed,  but  the 
other,  Israel  Grossman,  was  so  short  as  to 
be  almost  a  dwarf.  He  had  yellow  and 
white  hair,  was  a  little  lame,  and  his  hands 
were  covered  with  warts.  After  supper  he 


THE    SILK    POCKET.  97 

sat  a  few  minutes  on  the  top  of  the  fence 
whittling  a  stick.  As  Siller  Noonin  stood 
knitting  at  the  window  she  saw  him,  and 
shook  her  head. 

"  Somehow  or  'nother/'  said  she,  "  I  don't 
like  the  looks  of  that  man,  and  never  did. 
It's  my  private  opinion,  Mrs.  Lyman,  that 
either  he  stole  your  pocket  or  I  did." 

"Be  careful,"  whispered  Mrs.  Lyman, 
"he  will  hear  you/' 

He  might  have  heard,  or  might  not ;  but 
he  soon  got  off  the  fence  and  limped  away. 

"Israel  bears  a  good  character/'  said  Mrs. 
Lyman ;  "  I  will  not  suspect  him,  unless  I 
see  better  reason  than  I  have  ever  seen  yet/' 

The  loss  of  the  silk  pocket  continued  to 
be  a  great  mystery.  Everybody  hunted  for 
it  from  garret  to  cellar  ;  but  summer  passed, 
and  it  did  not  come. 

Patty's  grief  wore  away  by  degrees  ;  still 


98  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

she  never  heard  the  word  "  pocket"  or  the 
word  "  dollar  "  without  a  pang.  And  every 
time  she  saw  Mrs.  Chase  or  Mrs.  Potter,, 
she  could  not  help  wondering  if  her  money 
didn't  fly  away  just  to  punish  her  for  trying 
to  "show  off"  before  them?  At  any  rate, 
she  would  never,  never  "show  off"  again. 


PATTY'S  SUNDAY.  99 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


PATTY'S  SUNDAY. 


BUT  we  must  give  up  hunting  for  a  little 
while :  Sunday  has  come.  Let  us  forget 
that  "live  dollar"  (perhaps  it's  a  dead  dollar 
now),  and  go  to  church  with  Patty. 

When  she  was  "  dressed  for  meeting,"  she 
went  into  the  nicely  sanded  parlor  and  stood 
alone  before  the  looking-glass  a  minute  or 
two  to  admire  herself.  Look  at  her  !  She 
had  on  a  blue  cambric  frock,  and  a  blue  cam 
bric  jockey,  or  hat,  turned  up  a  little  at  the 
sides,  and  tied  under  the  chin  with  a  blue 

ribbon  ;  and  on  her  little  brown  hands  were 
a  pair  of  white  cotton  gloves.     Don't  laugh, 


100  ITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

little  city  folks!  This  was  all  very  fine, 
sixty  years  ago,  in  a  backwoods  town.  Bat 
look  at  her  feet,  and  you  must  laugh !  Her 
shoes  were  of  the  finest  red  broadcloth,  and 
Mrs.  Lyman  had  made  them  herself  out  of 
pieces  of  her  own  cloak  and  some  soft  leather 
left  in  the  house  by  Mr.  Piper,  the  shoe 
maker.  He  went  from  family  to  family, 
making  shoes;  but  he  could  not  make  all 
that  were  needed  in  town,  so  this  was  not 
the  first  time  Mrs.  Lyman  had  tried  her 
hand  at  the  business.  She  used  a  pretty 
last  and  real  shoemaker's  thread,  and  Mr. 
Piper  said  she  was  "  a  dabster  at  it ;  no  won 
der  her  husband  was  well  off  when  he  had 
such  a  smart  wife." 

For,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to  you, 
Squire  Lyman  was  "  well  off/' — that  is,  he 
had  one  of  the  best  farms  in  the  county,  and 
more  money  than  any  one  else  in  Persever- 


PATTY'S  SUNDAY. 


101 


ance,  'except  Mr.  Chase  and  Dr.  Potter ; 
those  two  men  were  much  wealthier  than 
he  was. 

All  the  Lymans  walked  to  church  except 
the  squire  and  his  wife  and  the  two  little 
boys ;  they  went  in  the  chaise.  Dr.  Potter 
rode  horseback,  with  a  great  show  of  silk 
stockings.  His  wife  was  propped  up  behind 
him  on  a  pillion.  She  was  a  graceful  rider, 
but  of  course  she  had  to  put  one  arm  around 
the  doctor  to  keep  from  falling  off.  This 
would  be  an  odd  sight  now  to  you  or  me, 
but  Patty  was  so  used  to  seeing  ladies  riding 
on  pillions  that  she  thought  nothing  about  it. 
She  looked  down  at  her  red  shoes  twinkling 
in  and  out  of  the  green  grass,  and  might 
have  been  perfectly  happy,  only  the  soles 
wouldn't  squeak. 

"Patty!  Patty!"  called  sister  Mary, 
"  come  back  here  and  walk  with  me." 


102  LITTLE  GRANDMOTHER. 

Patty  did  not  know  till  then  that  she  was 
hopping.  She  went  and  took  Mary's  hand, 
and  walked  soberly  along,  thinking. 

"  I  hope  Deacon  Turner  didn't  see  me.  I 
guess  he's  'way  ahead  of  us.  I  want  to  run 
and  swing  my  arms ;  but  I  won't,  because 
it  is  God's  holy  day." 

On  the  way  they  overtook  Sally  Potter, 
whose  jockey  was  dented  and  faded  ;  and 
Patty  said,  "  Good  morning,  Sally,"  with 
quite  an  air.  But  when  Linda  Chase  came 
along,  and  her  new  red  bosom-pin  shone  out 
in  the  sun,  Patty's  heart  died  within  her. 

"  S'pose  Linda  don't  know  some  folks 
don't  like  to  see  little  girls  wear  bosom- 
pins,"  thought  she. 

"When   they  reached  the  meeting-house 
Mrs.  Potter  was  just  alighting  upon  a  horse 
block.     "  Good  morning,  Linda,"  said  she  ; 
"  and  how  do  you  do,  Patty,  my  dear  ?" 


PATTY'S  SUNDAY.  103 

"  H'm  !  She  didn't  say  'Linda,  my  dear.' 
Guess  she  don't  like  bosom-pins/'  thought 
Patty ;  and  her  silly  heart  danced  up  again. 

"  0,  but  I  know  why  Mrs.  Chase  says 
*  Patty,  my  dear ; '  it's  because  I — well,  she 
s'poses  I  gave  that  dollar  to  the  girl  that  her 
father  was  drunk." 

And  I  am  glad  to  say  Patty  blushed. 

The  meeting-house  was  an  unpainted 
building  with  two  doors.  As  they  walked  in 
at  the  left  door,  their  feet  made  a  loud  sound 
on  the  floor,  which  was  without  a  carpet. 
There  were  galleries  on  each  side  of  the 
house,  and  indeed  the  pulpit  was  in  a  gal 
lery,  up,  up,  ever  so  high,  with  a  sounding- 
board  over  the  preacher's  head.  Eight  in 
the  middle  of  the  church  was  a  box  stove, 
but  you  could  see  that  it  was  not  half  large 
enough  to  heat  the  house.  Of  course  there 
was  no  fire  in  it  now,  for  it  was  midsummer ; 


104  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

but  in  the  winter  ladies  had  to  carry  foot- 
stoves  full  of  live  coals  to  keep  their  feet 
warm  in  their  pews. 

Squire  Lyman's  pew  was  very  near  the 
pulpit,  and  was  always  pretty  well  filled. 
Like  the  rest  of  the  great  square  boxes, — 
for  that  was  what  they  looked  like, — the 
seat  was  so  high  that  Patty's  scarlet  shoes 
dangled  in  the  air  ever  so  far  from  the 
floor. 

At  precisely  ten  o'clock,  Elder  Lovejoy 
walked  feebly  up  the  aisle,  and  climbed  the 
pulpit  stairs.  Patty  watched  him,  as  if  he 
had  been  one  of  Jacob's  angels  ascending 
the  ladder.  He  was  a  tall,  thin  man,  with  a 
fair  complexion  and  long  features.  Ho  wore 
a  large  turned-down  collar  and  a  white  neck 
erchief,  stuffed  round  the  throat  with  what 
was  called  a  pudding,  and  the  ends  of  the 
neckerchief  were  so  very  long  that  they 


PATTY'S  SUNDAY.  105 

hung  half  way  down  his  vest.  Everybody 
loved  Elder  Lovejoy,  for  he  was  very  good  ; 
but  Patty  thought  him  more  than  human. 
He  seemed  to  her  very  far  off,  and  sacred, 
like  King  Solomon  or  King  David ;  and  if 
he  had  worn  a  crown,  she  would  have  con 
sidered  it  very  appropriate. 

After  a  long  prayer,  during  which  all  the 
people  stood  up,  Elder  Lovejoy  read  a  long, 
long  psalm,  and  the  people  rose  again  to 
hear  it  sung.  They  turned  their  backs  to 
the  pulpit,  and  faced  the  singers. 

But  there  was  a  great  surprise  to-day.  A 
strange  sound  mingled  with  the  voices  sing 
ing  ;  it  was  the  sound  of  a  bass-viol.  The 
people  looked  at  one  another  in  surprise,  and 
some  with  frowns  on  their  faces.  Never  had 
an  instrument  of  music  of  any  sort  been 
brought  into  that- little  church  before;  and 
now  it  was  Deacon  Turner's  brother,  the 


106  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

blacksmith,  who  had  ventured  to  come  there 
with  a  fiddle  ! 

Good  Elder  Lovejoy  opened  his  eyes,  and 
wiped  his  spectacles,  and  thought  something 
must  be  done  about  it;  they  could  not  have 
u  dance  music  "  in  that  holy  place.  Deacon 
Turner  and  a  great  many  others  thought 
just  so  too ;  and  at  noon  they  talked  to  the 
wicked  blacksmith,  and  put  a  stop  to  his 
fiddle. 

But  nothing  of  this  was  done  in  church 
time.  Elder  Lovejoy  preached  a  very  long 
sermon,  in  a  painfully  sing-song  tone;  but 
Patty  thought  it  was  exactly  right ;  and 
when  she  heard  a  minister  preach  without 
the  sing-song,  she  knew  it  must  be  wrong. 
She  could  not  understand  the  sermon,  but 
she  stretched  up  her  little  neck  towards  the 
pulpit  till  it  ached,  thinking, — 

""Well,  mamma  says  I  must  sit  still,  and 


PATTY'S  SUNDAY.  107 

let  other  people  listen.     I  won't  make  any 
disturbment." 

Mrs.  Lyman  looked  at  her  little  daughter 
with  an  approving  smile,  and  Deacon  Turner, 
that  dreadful  tithing-man  up  in  the  gallery, 
thought  his  lecture  had  done  that  "  flighty 
little  creetur  "  a  great  deal  of  good — or  else 
it  was  his  dollar,  he  did  not  know  which. 

Patty  sat  still  for  a  whole  hour  and  more, 
counting  the  brass  nails  in  the  pews,  and  the 
panes  of  glass  in  the  windows,  and  keeping 
her  eyes  away  from  Daddy  "Wiggins,  who 
always  made  her  want  to  laugh.  At  last  the 
sermon  was  over,  and  the  people  had  just 
time  enough  to  go  to  their  homes  for  a  cold 
dinner  before  afternoon  service,  which  began 
at  one  o'clock. 

Sunday  did  seem  like  a  long  day  to  little 
folks;  and  do  you  wonder?  They  had  no 
Sabbath  school  or  Sabbath  school  books; 


108  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

and  the  only  part  of  the  day  which  seemed 
to  be  made  for  them  was  the  evening.  At 
that  time  they  had  to  say  their  catechisms, 
—  those  who  had  not  said  them  the  night 
before. 

Did  you  ever  see  a  Westminster  Cate 
chism,  with  its  queer  little  pictures  ?  Then 
you  can  have  no  idea  how  it  looks.  After 
supper  Mrs.  Lyman  called  the  children  into 
her  bedroom,  shut  the  door,  and  had  them 
repeat  their  lessons,  beginning  with  the 
question,  "  Who  was  the  first  man  ?  " 

Patty  supposed  the  Catechism  was  as  holy 
as  the  Bible,  and  thought  the  rhyme, — 

"Zaccheus  he 
Did  climb  a  tree, 
His  Lord  to  see," 

was  fine  poetry,  of  course,  and  she  never 
dreamed  of  laughing  at  the  picture  of  dried- 


PATTY'S  SUNDAY.  109 

up  little  Zaccheus  standing  on  the  top  of  a 
currant-bush. 

Little  Solly  could  answer  almost  all  the 
questions,  and  sometimes  baby  Benny,  who 
sat  in  his  mamma's  lap,  would  try  to  do  it 
too.  They  all  enjoyed  these  Sunday  even 
ings  in  "  mother's  bedroom,"  for  Mrs. 
Lyman  had  a  very  pleasant  way  of  talking 
with  her  children,  and  telling  interesting 
Bible  stories. 

The  lesson  this  evening  was  on  the  com 
mandment,  u  Thou  shalt  not  covet."  "When 
Patty  understood  what  it  meant,  she  said 
promptly,  ""Well,  mamma,  I  don't  do  it." 

For  she  was  thinking, — 

"What  you  s'pose  I  want  of  Linda 
Chase's  bosom-pin  ?  I  wouldn't  be  seen 
wearing  it !  " 


110  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

MRS.  CHASE'S  BOTTLE. 

You  see  Patty  knew  as  much  about  her 
own  little  heart  as  she  did  about  Choctaw. 

One  Wednesday  morning,  early  in  Sep 
tember,  Mrs.  Lyman  stood  before  tho  knead 
ing  trough,  with  both  arms  in  dough  as  far 
as  the  elbows.  In  the  farthest  corner  of 
the  kitchen  sat  little  Patty,  pounding  mus- 
tnrd-seed  in  a  mortar. 

"  Mumma,"  said  she,  "Linda  Chase  has  got 
a  calico  gown  that'll  stand  alone." 

4 'I've  heard  you  tell  of  that  before/7  said 
Mrs.  Lyman,  taking  out  a  quantity  of  dough 
with  both  hands,  putting  it  on  a  cabbage- 


MRS.  CHASE'S  BOTTLE.  Ill 

leaf,  and  patting  it  into  shape  like  a  large 
ball  of  butter.  A  cabbage-leaf  was  as  good 
as  "a  skillet,"  she  thought,  for  a  loaf  of 
brown  bread. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  gown  stand  all  alone, 
mother  ?  Linda  says  hers  does." 

"Poh,  it  don't!"  said  Moses.  "I  know 
better." 

"Then  hers  told  a  lie ! "  exclaimed  little 
Solly.  "  George  Wash/ton  never  told  a  lie/1 

"Linda  tells  the  truth/'  said  Patty; 
"now,  mamma,  why  don't  my  gowns 
stand  alone?" 

"I  want  to  be  like  George  Wash'ton,"  put 
in  Solly  again,  pounding  with  the  rolling- 
pin,  "and  papa's  got  a  hatchet;  but  we 
don't  have  no  cherry  trees.  I  cant  be  like 
George  Wash'ton." 

"  O,  what  a  noise  !  Stop  it !  "  said  Moses, 
tickling  little  Solly  under  the  arms. 


112  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"  Mamma,  I  wish  I  was  as  rich  as  Linda/' 
said  Patty,  raising  her  voice  above  the  din. 

A  look  of  pain  came  into  Mrs.  Ly man's 
eyes.  It  was  not  alone  the  children's  racket 
that  disturbed  her.  She  sighed,  and  turned 
round  to  open  the  door  of  the  brick  oven. 
The  oven  had  been  heated  long  ago,  and 
Dorcas  had  taken  out  the  coals.  It  was  just 
the  time  to  put  in  the  brown  bread,  and 
Mrs.  Lyman  set  the  cabbage-leaf  loaves  on 
the  wooden  bread-shovel,  and  pushed  them 
in  as  far  as  they  would  go. 

After  this  was  done  she  began  to  mix 
pie-crust;  but  not  a  word  had  she  to  say 
about  the  gown  that  would  stand  alone. 

"  Now,  Patience,  you  may  clean  the  mor 
tar  nicely,  and  pound  me  some  cinnamon." 

Patty  thought  her  mother  could  not  know 
how  her  little  arm  ached.  Linda  Chase 
didn't  have  to  pound  things ;  her  mother 


MRS.  CHASE'S  BOTTLE.  113 

thought  she  was  too  small.  Linda's  father 
had  a  gold  watch  with  a  chain  to  it,  and 
Linda's  big  brother  drove  two  horses,  and 
looked  very  fine,  not  at  all  like  George  and 
Silas.  Patty  would  not  have  thought  of  the 
difference,  only  she  had  heard  Betsy  Gould 
say  that  Fred  Chase  would  "turn  up  his 
nose  at  the  twins'  striped  shirts/' 

"  Mamma/'  said  she,  beginning  again  in 
that  teasing  tone  so  trying  to  mothers,  "  I 
have  to  eat  bread  and  milk  and  bean  por 
ridge,  and  Linda  don't.     She  has  nice  things 
all  the  time." 

"Patience,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  wearily, 
"I  cannot  listen  to  idle  complaints.  Solo 
mon,  put  down  that  porringer  and  go  ask 
Betsey  to  wash  your  face." 

"But,  mamma/'  said  Patty,  "why  can't  I 
have  things  like  Linda  Chase?" 

"My  little  girl  must  try  to  be  happy  in 
8 


114  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

the  Btate  in  which  God  has  placed  her," 
Baid  Mrs.  Lyman,  trimming  a  pie  round  the 
edges. 

"  But  I  don't  live  in  a  state,"  said  Patty, 
dropping  a  tear  into  the  cinnamon ;  "I  live 
in  the  District  of  Maine;  and  I  want  a 
gown  that'll  stand  alo-ne  !  '' 

"  It's  half  past  eight, 
And  I  can't  afford  to  wait,'* 

sang  Moses  from  the  south  entry. 

This  was  a  piece  of  poetry  which  always 
aroused  Patty.  Up  she  sprang,  and  put  on 
her  cape-bonnet  to  start  for  school  at  Mrs. 
Merrill's,  just  round  the  corner. 

"  Daughter,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  in  a  low 
voice,  as  she  was  going  out,  "you  have  a 
happier  home  than  poor  Linda  Chase. 
Don't  cry  for  things  that  little  girl  has, 
because,  my  dear,  it  is  wicked." 

"A  happier  home  than  poor  Linda  Chase ! " 


MRS.  CHASE'S  BOTTLE.  115 

Patty  was  amazed,  and  did  not  know 
what  her  mother  meant ;  but  when  she  got 
to  school  there  was  Linda  in  a  dimity  loose- 
gown,  and  Linda  said,  — 

"My  mother  wants  you  to  come  and 
stay  all  night  with  me,  if  your  mother's 
willing." 

So  Patty  went  home  at  noon  to  ask. 
Mrs.  Lyman  never  liked  to  have  Patty  gone 
over  night ;  but  the  child  pleaded  so  hard 
that  she  gave  her  consent,  only  Patty  must 
take  her  knitting-work,  and  musn't  ask  to 
wear  her  Sunday  clothes. 

When  she  went  home  with  Linda  she 
found  Mrs.  Chase  sitting  by  the  parlor  win 
dow  very  grandly  dressed.  She  kissed 
Patty,  without  once  looking  at  Patty's  ging 
ham  loose-gown  ;  but  her  eyes  were  quite 
red,  as  if  she  had  been  crying. 

"I  like  to  have  you  come  to  see  Linda," 


116  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

said  she,  "  for  Linda  has  no  little  sister,  and 
she  feels  rather  lonesome." 

Then  the  children  went  up  stairs  to  see 
the  wonderful  calico  gown  which  cost  "  four 
and  sixpence"  a  yard,  and  almost  stood 
alone  (that  was  all  Linda  had  ever  said  it 
could  do). 

Mr.  Chase  and  Fred  were  both  away  from 
home  ;  and  Patty  was  glad,  for  Mr.  Chase 
was  so  very  polite  and  stiff,  and  Fred 
always  talked  to  her  as  if  she  was  a  baby. 
She  did  not  like  to  go  to  see  Linda  when 
either  of  them  was  there. 

Mrs.  Chase  took  both  the  little  girls  in 
her  lap,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  hearing  their 
childish  prattle.  Patty  glanced  at  the  gay 
rings  on  the  lady's  fingers,  and  at  the  pic 
tures  on  the  walls,  and  wondered  why  it 
wasn't  a  happy  home,  and  what  made  Mrs. 
Chase's  eyes  so  red.  Then  all  at  once  sh^ 


MRS.  CHASE'S  BOTTLE.  117 

remembered  what  Siller  Noonin  had  said : 
u  O,  yes,  Mrs.  Chase  has  everything  heart 
can  wish,  except  a  bottle  to  put  her  tears 


in." 


Patty  did  not  see  why  a  handkerchief 
wasn't  just  as  good;  but  she  could  not  help 
looking  at  Linda's  mother  with  some  curi 
osity.  If  she  really  had  a  strong  preference 
for  crying  into  a  bottle,  why  didn't  her  rich 
husband  buy  her  a  bottle,  a  glass  one,  beau 
tifully  shaped,  with  gold  flowers  on  it,  and 
let  her  cry  into  it  just  as  much  as  she 
pleased  ?  He  was  rich,  and  he  ought  to. 

When  they  wrent  to  bed  in  the  beautiful 
chamber  that  had  such  pretty  furniture, 
Mrs.  C'hase  kissed  them  good  night,  but  not 
in  a  happy  way,  like  Patty's  mother. 

"What  makes  your  ma  look  so?"  said 
Patty ;  "  has  she  got  the  side-ache  ?" 

"No,  I  guess  not,"  replied  little  Linda; 


118  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"but  she  says  she  feels  bad  round  the 
heart." 

"  My  ma  don't,"  returned  Patty,  thought 
fully.  "  I  never  heard  her  say  so." 

That  was  the  last  Patty  knew,  till  ever  so 
long  afterwards,  right  in  the  middle  of  a 
dream,  she  heard  a  great  noise.  It  was  a 
sound  of  scuffling,  and  something  being 
dragged  up  stairs.  She  saw  the  glimmer 
of  lights,  and  heard  somebody's  voice  — 
she  thought  it  was  Mr.  Chase's  — say, 
"  Look  out  for  his  head,  George." 

« What  is  it  ?"  whispered  Patty.  "  O, 
what  is  W 

Linda  covered  her  face  with  the  sheet, 
and  whispered,  trembling  all  over,  — 

"  I  guess  Freddy's  sick." 

"No,  no,  no,"  cried  Patty;  "hear  how 
loud  he  talks !" 

"  0,  but  he's  very  sick/'  repeated  Linda. 


MRS.  CHASE'S  BOTTLE.  119 

They  heard  him  in  the  next  chamber, 
kicking  against  the  wall,  and  saying  dread 
ful  words,  such  as  Patty  had  never  heard 
before — words  which  made  her  shiver  all 
over  as  if  she  was  cold. 

"Is  it  'cause  he  is  sick?'*  said  she  to 
Linda. 

Linda  thought  it  was. 

Next  morning,  bright  and  early,  Patty 
had  to  run  home  to  help  Moses  turn  out 
the  cows ;  there  were  nine  of  them,  and  it 
took  two,  besides  the  dog  Towler,  to  get 
them  to  pasture.  She  told  her  mother  what 
she  had  heard  in  the  night,  and  her  mother 
looked  very  sober;  but  Rachel  spoke  up 
quickly,— 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Patty,  what  makes  Fred 
Chase  have  such  sick  turns ;  he  drinks  too 
much  brandy/* 

"  Yes,"  said  big  brother  John ;  "  that  fel- 


120  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

low  keeps  a  bottle  in  his  room  the  whole 
time." 

"  Is  it  his  mamma's  bottle  ?"  asked  Patty; 
for  it  flashed  over  her  all  at  once  that  per 
haps  that  was  the  reason  Mrs.  Chase  didn't 
have  a  bottle  to  cry  into,  because  Fred 
kept  it  up  in  his  room — full  of  brandy. 

Nobody  knew  what  she  meant  by  asking 
"  if  it  was  his  mamma's  bottle  ;"  so  no  one 
answered ;  but  Mrs.  Lyman  said, — 

u  You  see,  Patty,  it  can't  be  very  pleasant 
at  Linda's  house,  even  if  she  does  have 
calico  dresses  that  stand  alone/' 

"  It  don't  quite  stand  alone,  mamma/' 

"And  I  hope  you  won't  cry  again,  my 
daughter?  for  pretty  things  like  hers." 

"  No,  I  won't  mamma. — Is  that  why 
Linda's  mother  t  feels  bad  round  her 
heart/  'cause  Freddy  drinks  out  of  the 
bottle  r 


MRS.  CHASE'S  BOTTLE.  121 

"  Yes,  dear,  it  makes  Mrs.  Chase  very 
unhappy/' 

44  Then  I'm  sorry,  and  I  won't  ever  cry  to 
have  things  like  Linda  any  more." 

"That  is  right,  my  child;  that's  right! — 
Now,  darling,  run  and  help  Moses  turn  out 
the  cows." 


122  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 


CHAPTER   X. 

MASTER   PURPLE. 

I  THINK  it  was  the  next  winter  after  this 
that  Patty  had  that  dreadful  time  in  school. 
If  she  had  known  what  was  coming,  she 
would  not  have  been  in  such  a  hurry  for 
her  shoes.  Mr.  Piper  came  in  the  fall,  after 
he  had  got  his  farm  wrork  done,  to  "  shoe- 
make  "  for  the  Lymans,  beginning  with  the 
oldest  and  going  down  to  the  youngest; 
and  he  was  so  long  getting  to  Patty  that 
she  couldn't  wait,  and  started  for  school 
the  first  day  in  a  pair  ot  Moses's  boots 

O,  dear ;  but  such  a  school  as  it  was . 
Timothy  Purple  was  the  worst  teacher  that 


MASTER    PURPLE.  123 

ever  came  to  Perseverance.  He  was  very 
cruel,  but  he  was  cowardly  too;  for  lie 
punished  the  helpless  little  children  and  let 
the  large  ones  go  free.  I  have  no  patience 
with  him  when  I  think  of  it ! 

The  first  day  of  school  he  marched  about 
the  room,  pretending  to  look  for  a  nail  in 
the  wall  to  hang  the  naughtiest  scholar  on, 
whether  it  was  a  boy  or  a  girl.  Patty  was 
so  frightened  that  her  milk-teeth  chattered. 
You  little  folks  who  go  to  pleasant,  orderly 
schools,  and  receive  no  heavier  punishment 
than  black  marks  in  a  book,  can't  have  much 
idea  how  she  suffered. 

She  expected  every  day  after  this  to  see 
a  rope  come  out  of  Mr.  Purple's  pocket,  and 
was  sure  if  he  hung  anybody  it  would  be 
Patty  Lyman.  Mr.  Purple  soon  found  she 
was  afraid  of  him,  and  it  gratified  him, 


124  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

because  he  was  just  the  sort  of  man  to 
like  to  see  little  ones  tremble  before  him. 

"I  tell  you  what/'  said  Moses,  indignant 
ly,  "he's  all  the  time  picking  upon  Patty." 

And  so  he  was.  He  often  shook  her 
shoulders,  twitched  her  flying  hair,  or  boxed 
her  pretty  little  ears.  ITot  that  he  disliked 
Patty,  by  any  means.  I  suppose  a  cat  docs 
not  dislike  a  mouse,  but  only  torments  it 
for  the  sake  of  seeing  it  quiver. 

Moses  was  picked  upon  too ;  but  he  did 
not  make  much  complaint,  for  the  u  other 
fellows"  of  his  age  were  served  in  the  same 

way. 

.  As  for  poor  little  browbeaten  Patty,  she 
went  home  crying  almost  every  night,  and 
her  tender  mother  was  sometimes  on  the 
point  of  saying  to  her, — 

"Dear  child,  you  shall  not  go  another 
day." 


MASTER    PURPLE.  125 

But  she  did  not  say  it,  for  good  Mrs. 
Lyman  could  not  Lear  to  make  a  disturb 
ance.  She  knew  if  she  should  take  Patty 
out  of  school,  other  parents  would  take 
their  children  out  too ;  for  nobody  was  at 
all  satisfied  with  Mr.  Purple,  and  a  great 
many  people  said  they  wished  the  committee 
had  force  enough  to  turn  him  away. 

But  there  was  a  storm  in  the  air  which 
nobody  dreamed  of. 

The  sun  rose  one  morning  just  as  usual, 
and  Patty  started  for  school  at  half  past 
eight  with  the  rest  of  the  children.  You 
would  have  pitied  her  if  you  had  been 
there.  The  tears  were  dripping  from  her^ 
seven  years  old  eyes  like  a  hail  shower.  It 
was  very  cold,  but  she  didn't  mind  that 
much,  for  she  had  a  yellow  blanket  round 
her  head  and  shoulders,  and  over  those 
boots  of  Moses's  were  drawn  a  pair  of  big 


126  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

gray  stockings,  which  turned  up  and  flopped 
at  the  toes.  And  it  wasn't  that  ridiculous 
goosequill  in  her  hair  which  made  her  cry 
either,  though  I  am  sure  it  must  have  hurt. 
No  ;  it  was  the  thought  of  the  master,  that 
dreadful  man  with  the  ferule  and  the  birch 
sticks. 

Her  mother  stood  at  the  door  with  a 
saucer  pie  in  her  hand.  She  knew  there 
was  nothing  Patty  liked  better. 

"  Here,  Patience,"  said  she,  in  a  tone  of 
motherly  pity,  "  here's  a  pie  for  you.  Don't 
ycu  think  now  you  can  go  without  crying  ?" 

Patience  brightened  at  that,  and  put  the 
bunch  of  comfort  into  Moses's  dinner  pail, 
along  with  some  doughnuts  as  big  as  her 
arm,  and  some  brown  bread  and  sausages. 

It  was  a  long  way  to  the  school-house,  and 
by  the  time  the  children  got  there  their  feet 
were  numb.  There  was  a  great  roaring  fire 


MASTER    PURPLE.  127 

in  the  enormous  fireplace  ;  but  it  did  Patty 
no  good,  for  this  was  one  of  the  master's 
"  whipping  days/'  and  he  strode  the  brick 
hearth  like  a  savage  warrior.  Where  was 
the  little  boy  or  girl  brave  enough  to  say, 
"  Master,  may  I  go  to  the  fire  ?  " 

Poor  Patty  took  out  her  Ladies'  Acci 
dence,  and  turned  over  the  leaves.  It  was 
a  little  book,  and  the  title  sounds  as  if  it 
was  full  of  stories  ;  but  you  must  not  think 
Patty  would  have  carried  a  story  book  to 
school ! 

No ;  this  was  a  Grammar.  In  our  times 
little  girls  scarcely  seven  years  old  are  not 
made  to  study  such  hard  things,  for  their 
teachers  are  wise  enough  to  know  it  is  01 
no  use.  Patty  was  as  good  a  scholar  as 
any  in  school  for  her  age.  Her  letters  had 
been  boxed  into  her  ears  very  young  by 
Miss  Judkins,  and  now  she  could  read  in 


128  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

Webster's  Third  Part  as  fast  as  a  squirrel 
can  run  up  a  tree;  but  as  for  grammar,  you 
could  put  all  she  knew  into  a  doll's  thirnble. 
She  could  not  tell  a  noun  from  a  verb,  nor 
could  Linda  Chase  or  Sally  Potter,  if  you 
stood  right  over  them,  all  three,  with  three 
birch  switches.  They  all  knew  long  strings 
of  words,  though,  like  this  : — 

"A  noun  is  the  name  of  anything  that 
exists,  or  that  we  have  any  notion  of." 

She  liked  to  rattle  that  off— Patty  did— 
o;^  her  little  nimble  tongue,  her  head  keop- 
ing  time  to  the  words. 

I  wish  you  had  heard  her,  and  seen  her 
too,  or  that  I  could  give  you  any  idea  of 
Mr.  Purple's  school. 

Stop  a  minute.  Shut  your  eyes,  and 
think  you  are  in  Perseverance. — There,  do 
you  see  that  man  in  a  blue  swallow-tail  coat  ? 
This  is  the  master.  His  head  runs  up  to  a 


MASTER    PURPLE.  129 

peak,  like  an  old-fashioned  sugar  loaf,  and 
blazes  like  a  maple  tree  in  the  fall  of  the 
year.  He  stands  by  his  desk  making  a 
quill  pen,  and  looking  about  him  with  sharp 
glances,  that  seem  to  cut  right  and  left. 
Patty  almost  thinks  his  head  is  made  of 
eyes,  like  the  head  of  a  fly  ;  and  she  is  sure 
he  lias  a  pair  in  the  pockets  of  his  swallow 
tail  coat. 

But  it  is  a  great  mistake.  He  does  not 
see  a  twentieth  part  of  the  mischief  that  is 
going  on  ;  and  what  he  does  see  he  dares 
not  take  much  notice  of,  for  he  is  mortally 
afraid  of  the  large  boys. 

There  is  a  great  noise  in  the  room  of 
shuffling  feet  and  buzzing  lips,  but  he  pre 
tends  not  to  hear  it. 

Up  very  near  the  back  seat  sits  Mary 
Lyman,  or  Polly,  as  almost  everybody  calls 

her,    with    a    blue  woolen    cape    over    her 
9 


130  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

shoulders,  called  a  Vandyke,  and  her  hair 
pulled  and  tied,  and  doubled  and  twisted, 
and  then  a  goosequill  shot  through  it  like 
a  skewer. 

Behind  her,  in  the  very  back  seat  of  all, 
sits  Dorcas,  the  prettiest  girl  in  town,  with 
a  pale,  sweet  face,  and  a  wide  double  frill  in 
the  neck  of  her  dress. 

Patty's  future  husband,  William  Parlin,  is 
just  across  the  aisle.  He  is  fourteen  years 
old,  and  you  may  be  sure  has  never  thought 
yet  of  marrying  Patty. 

The  twins,  Silas  and  George,  sit  together, 
pretending  to  do  sums  on  a  slate ;  but,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  they  are  really  making  pictures 
of  the  master.  George  says  "his  forehead 
sneaks  away  from  his  face,"  and  on  the  slate 
he  is  made  to  look  like  an  idiot.  But  the 
color  of  his  hair  cannot  be  painted  with  a 
white  slate  pencil. 


MASTER    PURPLE.  131 

"  I  expect  every  day  I  shall  scream  out 
<Fire!'"  whispered  Silas!  "  Mr.  Purple's 
a-fire !" 

In  the  floor  stands  brother  Moses,  with  a 
split  shingle  astride  his  nose,  after  the 
fashion  of  a  modern  clothes-pin.  So  much 
for  eating  beechnuts  in  school,  and  peeling 
them  for  the  little  girls  ;  but  he  and  Ozem 
Wiggins  nod  at  each  other  wisely  behind 
Mr.  Purple's  back,  as  much  as  to  say,  they 
know  what  the  reason  is  they  have  to  be 
punished  ;  it  is  because  they  are  only  nine 
years  old ;  if  they  were  in  their  teens  the 
master  wouldn't  dare  !  Ozem  has  not  peeled 
beechnuts,  but  he  has  "  called  names,"  and 
has  to  hold  out  a  hard-wood  poker  at  arm's 
length.  If  he  should  curve  his  elbow  in  the 
least,  it  would  get  a  rap  from  the  master's 
ferule 

"  Class  in  Columbian  Orator,"  says  Mr. 


132  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

Purple,  /'take   your     places    out    in    the 
floor." 

A  dozen  of  the  large  boys  and  girls  march 
forth,  their  shoes  all  squeaking  as  if  some 
of  the  goosequills  had  got  into  the  soles. 

"Observe!"  f||v 

You  would  not  understand  that,  but  they 
know  it  means,  "  Make  your  manners  ;"  and 
the  girls  obey  by  quick  little  courtesies,  and 
the  boys  by  stiff  little  bows.  ? 

Most  of  them  say  "  iiatur  "  and  "  creetur," 
though  duly  corrected,  and  Charley  Noonin, 
Siller's  nephew,  says  "wooled  "  for  "would." 

Next  conies  a  class  in  the  Art  of  Reading. 
The  twins  are  in  that. 

Then  "Webster's  Third  Part,  and  unhappy 
little  Patty  steps  out,  almost  crying  with 
chilblains,  and  has  to  be  shaken  because  she 
doesn't  stand  still. 

After  that  some  poor  little  souls  try  to 


MASTER    PURPLE.  133 

spell  out  the  story  of  "  Thrifty  and  Unthrif 
ty  "  in  "Webster's  shingle-covered  spelling- 
book. 

"  Class  in  Morse's  Geography. — Little 
lady  in  that  /rent  seat,  be  car-ful !  Come 
out  here,  Patty  Lyman,  and  stand  up  by  the 
fireplace.  No  cry  ing. " 

It  is  almost  a  daily  habit  with  Master 
Purple  to  call  Patty  into  the  floor  while  the 
geography  class  recites,  and  afterwards  to 
give  her  a  small  whipping,  for  no  other 
reason  in  the  world  than  that  she  cannot 
stand  still.  William  Parlin,  who  is  a  man 
ly,  large-hearted  boy,  pities  the  poor  little 
thing,  and  sometimes  darkly  hints  that  he 
is  not  going  to  look  on  much  longer  and  see 
her  abused. 


134  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER 


CHAPTER   XI. 

LITTLE    GRANDFATHER. 

BUT  let  us  hear  the  geography  class. 

The  pupils  stay  in  their  seats  to  recite, 
while  the  master  walks  the  floor  and  switches 
his  boots.  There  is  such  a  fearful  uproar 
to-day  that  he  has  to  raise  his  voice  as  if 
he  were  speaking  a  ship  in  a  storm. 

4 'What  two  rivers  unite  to  form  the 
Ohio?" 

"  A  pint  of  clover  seed  and  a  bushel  of 
Timothy"  replies  William  Parlin,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  Right,"  returns  Mr.  Purple,  who  has  not 
heard  a  word,  but  never  contradicts  William 


LITTLE    GRANDFATHER.  135 

because  his  father  is  on  the  committee. — 
"  Next :  Soil  of  Kentucky  ?  " 

"Flat-boats  and  flat-irons/'  replies  one 
of  the  twins,  just  loud  enough  to  set  the 
boys  laughing  three  seats  before  and  behind 
him. 

"Very  well,  ver-j  well. — Less  laugh 
ing. — What  is  the  capital  ?  Speak  up  dis 
tinctly." 

"  Capital  punishment,"  responds  the  other 
twin,  cracking  an  acorn. 

u  Correct. — Next  may  answer,  a  little 
louder :  Where  is  Frankfort  ?  " 

And  that  was  the  way  the  lesson  went. 
There  had  been  a  great  deal  more  noise 
than  usual,  and  Mr.  Purple  was  almost  dis 
tracted,  for  he  saw  the  large  boys  were  "  in 
league,"  and  he  dared  not  call  them  to 
account. 

Meanwhile  active  little  Patty,  who  thought 


136  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

she  was  standing  perfectly  still,  studying 
that  dreadful  Ladies'  Accidence,  had  really 
been  spinning  about  on  one  foot;  and  just 
then  she  darted  forward  to  tear  a  bit  of 
shining  bark  from  a  white  birch  stick  in  the 
"  ears ;'  of  the  fireplace. 

u  Master,"  cried  oat  a  mean-spirited  boy 
on  the  front  bench,  "  Patty's  pickin'  gum  oil 
that  ar  log;  I  seed  her." 

Master  Purple  strode  quickly  across  the 
room.  He  had  been  longing  for  a  whole 
hour  to  give  somebody  a  terrible  whipping ; 
and  here  was  a  good  opportunity. 

Of  course  it  was  the  unmanly  little  tell 
tale  he  was  going  to  punish  ? 

No,  indeed ;  it  was  Patty,  lie  seized 
upon  the  bewildered  little  creature  with  the 
greatest  fur}T. 

"  Patty  Ly man,  what  do  you  mean,  young 
woman?  Haven't  I  hud  down  a  rule,  and 


LITTLE    GRANDFATHER.  137 

how  dare  you  disobey  ?  It  was  only  yester 
day  I  feruled  Ozen  Wiggins  for  chewing 
gum/' 

«  I  didn't,"  wailed  Patty. 

"  What  ?  Do  you  contradict  me  ?  We'll 
see  about  that !  Hold  out  your  hand,  you 
naughty,  wicked  child  !  " 

The  tone  was  so  fierce,  and  the  clutch  on 
her  shoulder  hurt  her  so  much,  that  poor 
Patty  screamed  fearfully. 

"  Hold  out  your  hand  !  "  repeated  the  mas 
ter. 

Patty  gave  him  her  slender  baby-palm, 
poor  little  creature  !  while  Dorcas  and  Mary, 
up  in  the  back  seats,  both  drew  in  their 
breaths  with  a  shudder. 

Down  came  the  hard-wood  ferule,  whiz 
zing  through  the  air  like  a  thing  of  life. 
No  time  then  to  tell  Mr.  Purple  she  couldn't 
have  picked  gum  off  a  hard-wood  stick  if 


138  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

she  had  tried;  he  wouldd't  have  believed 
her,  and  wouldn't  have  listened,  no  matter 
what  she  said. 

One  !  two  !  three  !  Patty  had  never  been 
struck  like  this  before.  The  twins  looked 
at  each  other,  and  almost  rose  from  their 
seats.  Indignation  flashed  from  thirty  pairs 
of  eyes,  but  the  master  was  too  excited  to 
see  it. 

Four!  five !  six  Patty's  little  figure  bent 
like  a  broken  reed,  when  there  was  a  shuf 
fling  of  boots  in  the  aisle,  and  a  voice 
shouted, — 

" Stop  that,  sir!" 

It  was  William  Parlin's  voice.  He  had 
sent  it  on  ahead  of  him,  and  was  following 
after  it  as  fast  as  he  could. 

"  Let  that  child  alone,  Master  Purple." 

Master  Purple  was   so  utterly  surprised 


LITTLE   GRANDFATHER    SPEAKS.  — Page  138. 


LITTLE    GRANDFATHER.  139 

and  confounded  that  he  stood  stock  still, 
with  his  ferule  high  in  the  air. 

In  another  minute  "William  was  at  his 
side. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  let  go  that  little  girl's 
hand,  sir?" 

Master  Purple  stood  and  glared. 

"  She's  taken  her  last  ruling,  sir.  I  won't 
look  on  and  see  such  small  children  abused, 
sir.  -If  the  committee  can't  make  a  fuss 
about  it,  I  will." 

You  might  have  heard  a  pin  drop.  The 
whole  school  held  its  breath  in  surprise. 
Master  Purple,  not  knowing  what  he  did, 
dropped  Patty's  hand,  and  the  sobbing  child 
tried  to  go  to  her  seat ;  but,  blinded  with 
tears,  and  pain  and  fright,  she  mistook 
the  way,  and  staggered  along  to  the  fire 
place. 

"Poor  little  thing,  don't  cry!  "  said  Wil- 


140  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

Ham,  lowering  his  voice  to  the  gentlest  tone; 
and  taking  her  in  his  arms  he  carried  her 
up  to  the  back  seat,  and  aether  in  Dorcas's 
lap. 

It  was  an  action  which  Patty  never  for 
got.  From  that  moment  she  loved  dear 
William  Parlin  with  all  her  little  heart. 

"  0,  William,  do  be  careful/'  said  Dor 
cas  ;  for  by  that  time  Master  Purple  had 
come  to  his  senses,  and  was  rushing  towards 
William,  brandishing  that  heavy  ruler. 

But  William  was  too  quick  for  him.  Be 
fore  Master  Purple  could  reach  the  back 
seat,  the  boy  ran  across  the  benches  between 
the  heads  of  the  frightened  children,  and 
seizing  the  monstrous  tongs,  tossed  them 
like  a  feather,  exclaiming, — 

"  Stand  off,  sir !  " 

What  could  Mr.  Purple  do  ?  He  was 
angry  enough  to  tear  William  in  pieces ; 


LITTLE    GRANDFATHER.  141 

but  it  was  not  so  easy  to  get  at  a  boy  who 
was  armed  with  a  pair  of  tongs. 

"  How  dare  you  ?"  he  cried,  choking  with 
rage ;  "  how  dare  you,  young  man  ?  Are 
the  boys  in  this  school  willing  to  look  on 
and  see  their  teacher  insulted?  " 

The  boys  did  seem  to  be  willing.  Mr. 
Purple  glanced  about  the  room,  hoping 
some  one  would  come  to  his  aid;  but  no  one 
came.  They  were  all  against  him,  and  full 
of  admiration  for  William,  though  none  of 
them  would  have  dared  to  take  William's 
place. 

The  little  boys  liked  the  excitement,  but 
the  little  girls  thought  this  was  the  end  of 
the  world,  and  began  to  cry. 

"  Is  this  the  treatment  I  am  to  receive 
from  my  school  ? "  exclaimed  Master  Purple, 
in  despair. 

The  like  had  never  been  heard  of  in  the 


142  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

town  of  Perseverance  that  a  school  should 
rise  against  its  teacher. 

"  I  am  going  straight  to  your  father  to 
inform  him  of  your  conduct/'  he  stammered, 
his  face  white  with  wrath. 

And  seizing  his  hat,  he  rushed  out  of  the 
house,  without  stopping  for  his  cloak. 

I  will  not  try  to  describe  the  uproar  which 
followed.  I  will  only  say  that  William  Par- 
lin  was  afterwards  reproved  by  his  father  for 
his  rash  conduct,  but  not  so  severely  as 
some  people  thought  he  should  have  been. 
Mr.  Purple's  red  head  was  never  seen  in 
that  school-house  again.  Another  teacher 

came  to  take  his  place,  who  was  a  Christian 
gentleman,  and  treated  the  little  children 
like  human  beings. 

No  one  was  more  glad  of  the  change  than 
Patty  Lyman.  The  new  master  came  to 
town  before  her  tender  palm  was  quite 


LITTLE    GRANDFATHER.  143 

healed  from  the  cruel  blows;  and  she  was 
the  first  to  see  him.  But  the  meeting  hap 
pened  in  such  a  queer  way,  that  I  shall  have 
to  tell  you  about  it. 


144  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE     LITTLE    DIPPER. 

,  mother/'  said  Squire  Lyman,  one 
afternoon,  "  the  new  teacher  has  got  along, 
and  by  the  looks  of  him  I  don't  believe  he 
is  the  man  to  abuse  our  little  girl.  Patty, 
dear,  open  the  cellar  door  for  papa." 

Mr.  Lyman's  arm*  were  full  of  ne^ilocK, 
which  he  had  brought  home  from  the  woods. 
Betsy  liked  it  for  brooms,  and  he  and  his 
hired  men  always  got  quantities  of  it  when 
they  were  hauling  the  winter's  wood  from 
the  wood  lot. 

"Yes,  I  know  the  Starbird  family  very 
well,"  replied  Mrs.  Lyman  ;  "  that  is,  I  used 


THE    LITTLE    DIPPER.  145 

to  know  this  young  man's  mother,  and  I 
presume  he  is  quite  different  from  Mr'. 
Purple. 

Mrs.  Lyman  was  sitting  before  the  kitchen 
fire  with  the  great  family  Bible  in  her  lap  ; 
but,  instead  of  reading  it,  she  was  winding 
round  it  some  white  soft  wicking. 

"  Why,  mamma,  mamma,  what  are  you 
doing  ?"  exclaimed  Patty.  "  How  can  papa 
read  to-night  with  the  Bible  all  tied  up  ?" 

"  I  shan't  hurt  the  good  book,  my  dear." 
And  as  Mrs.  Lyman  spoke  she  cut  the  wick- 
ing  in  two  with  the  shears,  and  as  it  fell 
apart  it  let  out  the  precious  volume  just  as 
good  as  ever.  Then  she  took  from  the  table 
some  slender  sticks,  and  put  on  each  stick 
twelve  pieces  of  wicking,  giving  each  Diece 
a  little  twist  with  her  fingers. 

"  0,  now  I  know/'  said  Moses,  who  was 

watching  too  ;  "  you're  a  goin'  to  makecan- 

10  ' 


146  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

dies  —  going  to  dip  those  strings  in  a  kettle 
of  something  hot.  Yes,  I  know." 

"  Yes,  and  there's  the  kettle,"  said  Patty. 

Mrs'.  Lyman  was  very  late  this  year  about 
her  candles.  She  dipped  them  once  a  year, 
and  always  in  the  afternoon  and  evening, 
because  there  was  so  much,  so  very  much 
going  on  in  that  kitchen  in  the  morning. 

"  Now,  please,  mamma/'  said  Patty,  "  let 
me  help." 

Mrs.  Lyman  tipped  two  chairs  face  down 
ward  towards  the  floor, — "  Like  folks  trying 
to  creep/'  said  Patty,  —  and  laid  two  long 
sticks  from  one  chair  to  the  other,  making 
a  very  good  fence.  Next  she  set  the  candle 
rods  across  the  fence,  more  than  a  hundred 
of  them  in  straight  rows. 

"James,"  called  she,  going  to  the  door; 
and  while  James  was  coming  she  laid  a  large 


THE   LITTLE    DIPPER.  147 

plank  on  the  floor  right  under  the  candle 
rods. 

"  That's  to  catch  the  drippings/'  said  the 
learned  Moses ;  and  he  was  right. 

Squire  Lyman  and  James  came  in  and 
lifted  the  heavy  brass  kettle  from  the  crane, 
and  placed  it  on  a  board  just  in  front  of  the 
brick  hearth,  not  far  from  the  creeping 
chairs ;  and  then  Mrs.  Lyman  sat  down  to 
dip  candles. 

In  the  first  place,  when  she  put  the  pieces 
of  wicking  into  the  kettle  of  hot  tallow  and 
took  them  out  again,  they  looked  like  greasy 
strings,  and  nothing  else.  One  after  another 
she  dipped  them  in  and  drew  them  out, 
dipped  them  in  and  drew  them  out,  and  set 
them  carefully  back  in  their  places  across 
the  fence. 

Patty  and  Moses  looked  on  with  great 
interest 


148  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER 

"  How  slow  they  are !"  said  Moses.  "  I've 
kept  count,  and  you've  dipped  more'n  a 
hundred  sticks,  and  you  haven't  made  one 
candle  yet." 

"  Rome  wasn't  built  in  a  day,"  said  Mrs. 
Lyman,  going  back  to  the  very  beginning, 
and  dipping  the  first  row  over  again. 

"I  don't  know  what  Rome  is/'  said  Patty. 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  fuss  with  those  strings," 
observed  Moses ;  "  why,  this  makes  twice, 
and  they're  no  bigger  round  yet  than  slate 
pencils." 

"  I'd  let  'em  alone,"  said  Patty,  "  and  not 
try." 

"  Moses,  you  might  as  well  run  off  and 
see  if  father  wants  you,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman; 
"  and,  Patience,  I  know  Dorcas  would  like 
some  cloves  pounded." 

In  about  an  hour  Patty  was  back  again. 
The  candles  had  grown,  but  only  a  very 


THE    LITTLE    DIPPER.  149 

little.  They  were  no  larger  yet  than  lead 
pencils.  And  there  sat  Mrs.  Lyman  with  a 
steady,  sober  look  on  her  face,  as  if  she  had 
made  up  her  mind  to  wait  and  let  them  take 
their  time  to  grow. 

"  What  slow  candles  !''  cried  Patty. 

"  Patience,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  smil 
ing. 

"  There,  mamma,  you  said  Patience,  but 
you  didn't  mean  me ;  you  meant  the  good 
kind  of  patience." 

"  Yes,  I  meant  the  patience  that  works  and 
waits.  Now  go  and  wash  some  potatoes  for 
to-morrow's  breakfast,  and  then  you  may 
come  again  and  look." 

When  Patty  came  the  second  time,  she 
exclaimed,  with  delight, — 

"  0,  mamma,  they're  as  big  round  as  can 
dy  !  Wish  'twas  candy;  wouldn't  I  eat ?" 

Mrs.  Lyman  began  again  at  the  first  row. 


150  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"  Why,  mamma  Lyman,  true's  you  live  I 
can  begin  to  see  'em  grow  !" 

"  You  are  right/'  said  her  mother. 
"  People  don't  work  and  wait,  all  for  noth 
ing,  daughter." 

"Yankee  Doodle  came  to  town/'  sang 
Patty,  dancing  the  time  to  the  tune,  as  if 
she  did  not  hear  her  mother's  words.  But 
she  did  hear  them,  and  was  putting  them 
away  in  her  memory,  along  with  a  thousand 
other  things  which  had  been  said  to  her,  and 
which  she  had  not  seemed  to  hear  at  the  time. 

I  wish  Mrs.  Lyman  could  have  known 
this,  for  she  sometimes  thought  it  was  of 
no  use  to  talk  to  Patty.  I  wish  she  could 
have  known  that  years  afterwards  the  dan 
cing  child  would  be  comforted  in  many  a 
trouble  by  these  cheery  words,  "People 
don't  work  and  wait  for  nothing,  daughter." 
For  you  see  it  all  came  back  to  Patty  when 


THE    LITTLE    DIPPER.  151 

she  was  a  woman.  She  saw  a  picture  of 
her  good  mother  dipping  candles,  with  a 
steady,  sober  look  on  her  face;  and  that 
picture  always  did  her  good. 

I  wonder  if  the  little  folks,  even  in  these 
days,  don't  hear  and  heed  more  than  they 
appear  to  ?  If  so,  their  mammas  ought  to 
believe  it,  and  take  courage. 

"Mother,  why  do  you  pour  hot  water 
into  that  kettle  ?  Won't  water  put  out  can 
dles  ? " 

"  Perhaps  not ;  perhaps  it  will  make  the 
tallow  rise  to  the  top,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman, 
laughing. 

"  0,  so  it  does.  Isn't  it  such  fun  to  dip 
candles  ?  They  grow  as  fast  as  you  can 
wink.  Mayn't  I  dip,  please,  mamma?" 

"  Who  was  it,"  replied  Mrs.  Lyman,  with 
a  quiet  smile,  u  that  said,  '  I'd  let  'em  alone, 
and  not  try  ? '  " 


152  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"  0,  but,  mamma,  that  was  when  they 
didn't  grow,  you  know." 

"  Well,  dear,  I'll  let  you  dip  in  a  rod  by 
and  by  ;  I  can't  stop  now/' 

Patty  waited,  but  the  "by  and  by  "  did 
not  come.  Mrs.  Lyman  seemed  to  have  for 
gotten  her  promise ;  and  about  eight  o'clock 
had  to  leave  the  candles  a  few  minutes  to 
give  Dorcas  some  advice  about  the  fitting 
of  a  dress.  Dorcas  was  to  take  her  mother's 
place;  but  just  as  she  started  for  the 
kitchen,  there  was  an  outcry  from  Mary, 
who  had  cut  her  finger,  and  wanted  it 
bound  up. 

"It's  my  by-and-by  now"  thought  little 
Patty. 

There  was  not  a  soul  in  the  kitchen  to 
attend  to  those  candles.  Deary  me,  and  the 
tallow  growing  so  cold !  Wasn't  it  Patty's 
duty  to  help  ? 


THE    LITTLE   DIPPER.  153 

Of  course  it  was ;  and  seating  her  litt/e 
self  with  much  dignity  in  the  chair  from 
which  her  mother  had  just  risen,  and  prop 
ping  her  feet  on  the  round,  she  took  up  the 
business  where  it  was  left  off.  It  seemed 
the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  flash  those 
round  white  candles  into  the  kettle  and  out 
again;  but  they  were  a  great  deal  heavier 
than  sli3  had  supposed.  After  she  had 
dipped  two  or  three  rods  her  arm  felt  very 
tired.  How  could  mamma  do  it  so  fast, 
without  stopping  one  bit? 

A  bright  thought  seized  Patty,  as  bright 
as  all  those  dozen-dozen  candles  burning  in 
a  row. 

"  Guess  I'll  dip  'em  slow ;  then  there'll 
be  more  tallow  stick  on." 

Strange  mamma  hadn't  thought  of  that 
herself;  but  mammas  can't  think  of  every 
thing,  they  have  so  much  to  do.  Patty 


154  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

swayed  a  rod  full  of  candles  from  side  to 
side  in  the  kettle,  not  perceiving  that  they 
were  melting  to  their  heart's  cores.  "When 
she  took  them  out  they  dripped  great  tears, 
and  as  she  held  them  up,  wondering  why 
they  hadn't  grown  any,  the  kitchen  door 
opened,  and  some  one  walked  in. 

Who  it  was  Patty  could  not  see,  for  her 
face  was  turned  away ;  but  what  if  it  should 
be  brother  James,  and  he  should  call  out, — 

"Well,  Snippet,  up  to  mischief,  hey?  " 

The  very  thought  of  such  a  speech  fright 
ened  her  so  that  she  set  her  row  of  candles 
across  the  chairs  in  great  haste,  hitting 
them  against  another  row,  where  they  stuck 
fast. 

"Good  evening,  miss,"  said  a  strange 
voice. 

Patty  turned  her  head,  and  there,  instead 
of  James,  stood  a  handsome  young  gentle- 


THE   LITTLE   DIPPER.  155 

man  she  had  never  seen  before.     She  knew 
at  once  it  must  be  the  new  teacher. 

The  first  thing  she  did  was  to  seize  a  row 
of  candles,  hit  or  miss,  and  dashed  them  into 
the  kettle. 

"Beg  pardon.  I'm  afraid  I've  come  to 
the  wrong  door,"  said  the  stranger,  bowing 
very  low,  and  trying  his  best  not  to  smile. 

"0,  no,  sir;  yes,  sir;  thank  you,"  re 
plied  bewildered  Patty,  almost  plunging 
head  first  into  the  kettle.  But  instead  of 
that  she  suddenly  straightened  up,  and 
popped  in  another  row  of  candles. 

Mr.  Starbird  was  so  amused  by  the  little 
creature's  quick  and  kitten-like  motions  that 
he  stood  still  and  watched  her.  He  thought 
he  had  never  seen  so  funny  a  sight  before. 

"He  smiles  just  as  cheerfully"  mused 
Miss  Patty,  with  an  airy  toss  of  the  head. 
"Guess  he  thinks  I'm  smart!  Guess  he 


156  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

thinks  he'll  put  me  in  the  C'lumby  Norter 
[Columbian  Orator]  first  thing  he  does ! 
Big  girl  like  this,  sitting  up  so  straight, 
working  like  a  woman  !" 

"With  that  she  rocked  forward,  and  nearly 
lost  her  balance ;  but  no  harm  was  done ; 
she  only  pushed  the  kettle  half  way  off  the 
board. 

The  gentleman  thought  it  was  about  time 
to  interfere,  and  let  some  of  the  family 
know  what  the  child  was  doing. 

"  Will  you  please  point  the  way  to  the 
parlor,  little  miss?"  said  he,  with  a  be 
witching  smile. 

Patty  slid  from  her  seat,  and,  in  her  con 
fusion,  was  aiming  straight  for  the  cellar 
door,  when,  alas  !  alas  !  one  of  her  feet  got 
caught  in  the  rounds  of  the  chair,  and  she 
tumbled  out  headlong.  In  trying  to  save 
herself,  she  put  forth  both  hands,  and  struck 


THE    LITTLE    DIPPER.  157 

against  the  kettle,  which  was  already  tipsy, 
and  of  course  turned  over. 

It  was  a  critical  moment.  Mr.  Starbird 
saw  the  kettle  coming,  and  had  the  pres 
ence  of  mind  to  spring  the  other  way.  A 
flood  of  hot  water  and  tallow  was  pouring 
over  the  floor,  and  little  Patty  screaming 
lustily. 

Mr.  Starbird  thought  she  was  scalding  to 
death,  and  instead  of  taking  care  of  himself, 
turned  about  to  save  her.  But  before  he 
could  reach  her,  she  had  darted  through  the 
bar-room  door  and  disappeared — without  so 
much  as  a  blotch  of  tallow  on  her  shoes. 

Gallant  Mr.  Starbird  did  not  get  off  so 
well.  His  foot  slipped  on  the  oily  floor,  and 
down  he  fell.  Before  he  could  get  up  the 
whole  household  had  come  to  the  rescue, 
Rachel  and  John  bringing  tin  dippers,  and 
Mrs.  Lyman  a  mop;  but  Dorcas  a  roll  of 


158  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

linen,  for  she  knew  the  stranger  must  be 
scalded. 

He  tried  to  make  the  best  of  it,  poor 
man;  and  while  Dorcas  was  doing  up  both 
his  blistered  hands,  he  smiled  on  her  almost 
as  "  cheerfully "  as  he  had  smiled  on  the 
little  candle-dipper.  He  found  it  very 
pleasant  to  look  at  Dorcas.  Everybody 
liked  to  look  at  her.  She  had  a  rare, 
sweet  face,  as  delicate  as  a  white  snow 
drop  just  touched  with  pink,  and  she  did 
know  how  to  do  up  sore  fingers  beautifully ; 
she  had  practised  it  on  every  one  of  the 
children. 

Patty  was  so  sorry  and  ashamed  that  she 
crept  to  bed  in  the  dark,  and  cried  herself 
to  sleep. 

The  next  morning  that  unpainted  kitchen 
floor  was  a  sight  to  behold,  and  Eachel  said 


THE   LITTLE    DIPPER.  159 

she  did  not  think  it  would  ever  come  clean 
again. 

"See  what  I  found  in  the  kettle,"  said 
she. 

Two  rows  of  little  withered  candles,  all 
worn  out,  and  crooked  besides. 

"Did  I  do  that  too  ?"  said  Patty. 

"  I  should  think  you  did.  What  mischief 
will  you  be  up  to  next?"  said  Eachel, 
sharply. 

"  But,  but,  mamma  said  I  might  dip." 

"  Why,  yes,  so  I  did,"  said  the  much-en 
during  mother,  suddenly  remembering  her 
own  words.  "  Well,  well,  Eachel,  we  won't 
be  too  hard  on  Patience.  I'll  ^arrant  she'll 
never  try  this  caper  again/7 


160  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 


OHAPTEB    XIII. 

MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM. 

MR.  STARBIRD  began  the  school  with  his 
hands  in  mittens ;  but  for  all  that  he  gov 
erned  the  big  boys  without  the  least  effort. 
His  blisters  were  so  troublesome  that  he  had 
to  go  to  Squire  Lyman's  every  day  to  have 
them  done  up,  and  in  that  way  Patty  grew 
very  well  acquainted  with  him.  Before 
spring  the  whole  family  felt  as  if  they  had 
always  known  him,  and  Mrs.  Lyman  called 
him  Frank,  because  she  and  his  mother  had 
been  "  girls  together."  Dorcas  did  not  call 
him  Frank,  but  they  were  remarkably  good 
friends. 


MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM.  161 

After  the  winter  school  was  done,  Mr. 
Starbird  still  staid  at  Perseverance,  study 
ing  law  with  Mr.  Chase,  and  boarding  at 
Squire  Ly man's.  He  was  a  very  funny  man, 
always  saying  and  doing  strange  things ;  and 
that  brings  me  round  at  last  to  Patty's 
dollar. 

One  evening  Patty  was  so  tired  with  pick 
ing  up  chips  that  she  went  and  threw  herself 
into  her  mother's  arms,  saying,  "  Why  don't 
the  boys  stick  the  axe  clear  through  the 
wood,  mamma;  then  there  wouldn't  be  chips 
to  bother  folks." 

For  a  wonder  Mrs.  Lyman  wras  sitting 
down  without  any  work  in  her  hands,  and 
could  stop  to  stroke  Patty's  hair  and  kiss  her 
"  lips  like  snips  of  scarlet,"  which  made  the 
little  girl  happier  than  anything  else  in  the 
world.  Mr.  Starbird  sat  in  a  large  arm 
chair,  holding  a  skein  of  yarn  for  Dorcas, 
11 


162  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

who  sat  in  a  small  rocking-chair,  wind 
ing  it. 

"Mrs.  Lyman,"  said  Mr.  Starbird,  "do 
you  believe  in  dreams?" 

"Indeed,  I  do  not,"  replied  Mrs.  Lyman. 
"Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Well,  I  don't  believe  in  them  myself 
any  more  than  you  do,  Mrs.  Lyman.  But 
I  did  have  such  a  very  singular  dream  last 
night ! " 

"Do  tell  us  what  it  was,"  said  Dorcas. 

"Certainly,  if  you  like,"  said  Mr.  Star- 
bird;  "but  I  —  but  I  don't  know  about 
it;  is  it  best  to  speak  of  such  things  be 
fore  Patty?" 

"Yes,  you  must,  Mr.  Starbird,"  cried 
Patty,  springing  up  eagerly,  "/won't  tell 
anybody,  long's  I  live." 

Mr.  Starbird  laughed. 

"  Well,  in  the  first  place,  Mrs.  Lyman,  let 


MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM.  163 

me  ask  you  if  you  lost  any  money  ever  so 
long  ago?" 

"Yes,  I  lost  a  twenty-dollar  gold  piece 
last  summer." 

"Yes ;  and  me,  too.  I  had  a  silver  dollar, 
'n'  I  lost  it,"  cried  Patty. 

"How  strange!"  said  Mr.  Starbird.  "So 
my  dream  does  have  some  sense  in  it. 
Excuse  me,  Mrs.  Lyman ;  but  will  you  tell 
me  where  you  kept  the  money?" 

"  In  my  black  silk  pocket ;  but  the  pocket 
went  too." 

"And  I  suppose  you  have  hunted  every 
where  for  it." 

"Of  course  we  have,"  said  Dorcas.  "I 
guess  you'd  think  so,  Mr.  Starbird;  why, 
we've  turned  this  house  upside  down." 

"To  be  sure.  Well,  I'd  like  to  ask  an 
other  question,  Mrs.  Lyman.  Did  you  ever 
think  that  woman  that  is  about  here  so 


164  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

much  —  Siller  Noonin,  I  believe  they  call  her 
—  could  have  taken  the  money?" 

"  O,  no,  indeed,  Francis ;  we  consider 
Priscilla  an  honest  woman." 

"That  was  not  what  I  meant  to  say,  Mrs. 
Lyman.  What  I  was  going  to  ask  was  this  : 
Wasn't  there  a  funny  old  man  here  at  the 
time  you  lost  the  money  ?  and  didn't  Siller 
Noonin  say  that  either  he  stole  the  money 
or  she  did?" 

Mrs.  Lyman  looked  surprised. 

"  Yes ;  there  was  a  little  old  man  at  the 
house  in  haying-time,  and  I  believe  Priscilla 
did  say  she  thought  —  " 

"Yes,  mother,"  broke  in  Dorcas;  "and  he 
was  sitting  out  on  the  fence  when  she  said 
it,  and  we  were  afraid  he  heard ;  but  how 
did  you  know  that,  Mr.  Starbird?  It  didn't 
come  to  you  in  your  dream?" 

"Ah,  Miss  Dorcas,  you  are  beginning  to 


MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM.  165 

be  curious ;  but  when  I  go  on  to  tell  you 
more,  you  will  open  your  eyes  wider  yet. 
I  never  saw  that  little  old  man,  Mrs.  Lyman, 
and  never  heard  you  speak  of  him ;  but  I 
dreamed  I  was  husking  corn  in  your  barn, 
and  a  man  about  as  tall  as  your  tylary  — " 

Just  then  Mary,  and  Moses,  and  George, 
and  Silas,  and  John,  and  Kachel  came  into 
the  room,  followed  by  William  Parlin ;  and 
Mr.  Starbird  had  to  begin  at  the  beginning 
and  tell  as  far  as  this  all  over  again. 

"A  man  as  tall,  perhaps,  as  Mary,  with 
hair  the  color  of  pumpkin  and  milk,  limped 
up  to  me  —  " 

"  Why,  mother,  why,  Rachel,  his  hair  was 
all  yellow  and  white,"  said  Moses. 

"Well,  so  I  said,"  pursued  Mr.  Starbird. 
"And  there  were  red  rings  round  his  eyes, 
and  he  had  a  turn-up  nose,  and  hands  all 
covered  with  warts." 


166  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

"  Mr.  Starbird,  you  must  have  seen  Israel 
Grossman,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  who  had 
stopped  rocking  in  her  surprise. 

w  Israel  Grossman !  That  was  the  very 
name  he  spoke  as  he  limped  into  the  barn. 
I  declare,  Mrs.  Lyman,  this  is  growing  more 
and  more  mysterious  ;  but  I  never  saw  Israel 
Grossman;  I  give  you  my  word." 

w  How  very  strange  !  "  said  Dorcas  ;  "  but 
do  make  haste  and  finish,  for  I  am  getting 
all  of  a  tremble." 

"Me,  too,"  cried  Patty,  clinging  close  to 
her  mother's  neck. 

:?Well,  the  old  man  sidled  along  to  me, 
and  said  he,  -r- 

<? '  I'm  Isr'el  Grossman  ;  and  look  here  :  me 
and  Squire  Lyman's  two  hired  men  and 
(I've  forgotten  the  other  name)  got  in  hay 
into  this  ere  barn  last  summer.  Squire 
Lyman's  folks  used  me  well;  but  there's 


MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM.  167 

one  thing  that's  laid  heavy  on  my  mind. 
Mrs.  Lyman  lost  a  gold  piece  while  I  was 
here  —  '" 

"Yes,  and  me  a  silver  dollar,"  cried 
Patty. 

"'  And  it  distressed  me  bad,'  said  Israel, 
'for  Siller  Noonin  up  and  said  that  either 
she  stole  it,  or  I  did.  But  it's  come  to  me 
lately,'  said  Israel,  'what  must  have  'come 
of  that  money  !  I  never  took  it ;  bless  you, 
I  never  stole  a  pin  !  But  I  see  that  little 
Patty  to  play  out  in  the  barn  with  one  of  her 
rag  babies.'" 

WO,  I  never,"  exclaimed  Patty. 

"  Don't  interrupt,"  whispered  one  of  the 
twins,  deeply  interested. 

"You  know  I  am  only  telling  a  silly 
dream,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Starbird.  "This 
little  man  said  he  saw  Patty  playing  on  the 
scaffold  before  the  hay  was  got  into  the 


168  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

barn,  and  she  had  something  round  her 
doll's  neck  that  looked  like  a  pocket.  He 
didn't  know  any  more  than  that;  but  he 
'sort  of  mistrusted'  that  she  might  have 
left  the  doll  on  the  scaffold,  and  the  men 
might  have  pitched  hay  right  en  top  of  it." 

"Sure  enough,"  exclaimed  Dorcas,  with  a 
nervous  laugh;  "who  knows  but  she  did?" 

"Have  you  lost  a  doll,  Patty?"  asked 
William  Parlin. 

"No;  I  never." 

"O,  she  doesn't  know  when  she  loses 
dolls,"  said  Eachel ;  she  always  keeps  more 
than  a  dozen  or  so  on  hand." 

"Well,  I  was  going  to  say,"  continued 
Mr.  Starbird,  "you  could  easily  find  out 
whether  there  was  any  meaning  to  my 
dream.  If  there  is  a  doll  up  there  on  the 
scaffold,  the  hay  is  getting  so  low  you  could 
scrape  round  and  find  it." 


MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM.  169 

"That's  so,"  cried  the  twins. 

"Not  that  it's  really  worth  while,  either," 
added  Mr.  Starbird;  "for,  as  I  said,  it  was 
only  —  " 

"But  there  isn't  the  least  harm  in  going 
out  to  see,"  said  Mary  and  the  twins,  and 
William  Paiiin,  all  in  a  breath,  as  they 
started  on  a  run  for  the  barn.  Patty 
slipped  down  from  her  mother's  arms  and 
followed. 

"Me  !  Me  !  Let  me  go  first,"  she  cried. 
And  before  any  one  else  could  do  it,  her 
swift  little  feet  were  mounting  the  ladder, 
and  next  minute  tripping  over  the  scaffold. 

"  O,  look  !  O,  catch  !  Here  it  is  !  Here 
is  my  dolly  all  up  in  the  corner,  and  here's 
a  pocket  round  her  neck ! " 

Dorcas,  who  was  always  rather  nervous, 
sat  on  the  barn  floor  and  laughed  and  cried 
herself  into  such  a  state  that  Mr.  Starbird 


170  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

had  to  give  her  his  arm  to  help  her  back  to 
the  house. 

There  was  a  great  time,  you  may  be  sure, 
-when  Patty  shook  the  pocket  before  every 
body's  eyes,  and  James  rang  the  twenty-dol 
lar  piece  on  the  brick  hearth  to  make  sure 
it  was  good  gold.  Dorcas  was  so  excited 
that  pink  spots  came  in  both  her  cheeks, 
and  even  James  did  not  know  what  to  think. 
Betsey  Gould  started  right  off  to  Dr.  Pot 
ter's,  where  Siller  Nooiiin  happened  to  be, 
to  tell  Siller  the  story.  Dorcas  kept  haying 
little  spasms  of  laughing  and  crying,  and 
the  whole  household  had  rather  a  frightened 
look ;  for  it  was  th6  most  marvellous  dream 
they  ever  heard  of. 

"Well,  mother,  what  do  you  think  now 
of  dreams?"  said  Moses.  "Guess  you'll 
have  to  give  it  up." 

Mrs.  Lyman  had  been  in  her  bedroom  to 


MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM.  171 

put  the  gold  piece  into  her  drawer,  and  she 
now  came  back  and  took  up  her  stocking- 
basket,  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

"  I  will  tell  you  to-morrow  what  I  think 
of  dreams,  Moses. — Hush,  Patty,  I  am 
afraid  we  shall  be  sorry  you  found  your 
dollar,  if  it  makes  you  so  noisy." 

Mr.  Starbird  went  up  to  the  table  where 
Mrs.  Lyman  sat,  pretending  to  be  looking 
for  the  shears,  but  really  to  get  a  peep  at 
the  .lady's  eyes.  At  any  rate,  he  did  not  go 
away  till  he  had  made  her  look  at  him,  and 
then  they  both  smiled,  and  Mrs.  Lyman  said, 
in  a  very  low  voice, — 

"Francis,  you  have  kept  up  the  joke  long 
enough." 

Frank  nodded  and  went  back  to  the  settle. 

"James,"  said  he,  "you  are  the  wise  one 
of  the  family ;  I  wish  you  would  tell  me 
ho\v  you  account  for  my  dream." 


172  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

"Can't  account  for  it,"  said  James,  shak 
ing  his  head;  "don't  pretend  to." 

"Well,  then,  if  you  can't,"  returned  Mr. 
Starbird,  looking  very  innocent,  "perhaps 
you  can  tell  ine  what  day  of  the  month 
it  is?" 

There  was  a  general  uproar  then. 

"Have  you  been  making  fools  of  us, 
Frank  Starbird?"  cried  James  and  Rachel, 
seizing  him,  one  by  the  hair,  the  other  by 
the  ears. 

"April  Fools!  April  Fools!"  exclaimed 
all  the  children  together,  —  all  except 
Dorcas. 

"It's  the  best  fool  I  ever  heard  of,"  said 
William  Parlin;  "but  how  did  you  do  it, 
sir?" 

"Yes,  explain  yourself,"  said  James  and 
Rachel.  "Was  mother  in  the  secret?" 


MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM.  173 

"  No ;  but  Dorcas  was.  Let  go  my  hair, 
James,  and  I'll  speak.  — Fact  is,  I  happened 
to  find  that  rag  baby  out  there  on  the  scaf 
fold  this  afternoon  with  that  pocket  on  its 
neck,  and  so  I  dreamed  a  dream  to  suit 
myself." 

"Yes,"  said  Dorcas ;  "and  I  told  him  just 
how  Israel  Grossman  looked,  and  all  about 
Siller  Noonin,  and  didn't  he  say  it  off  like  a 
book?" 

"Wasn't  it  a  dream,  then?"  asked  little 
Patty. 

"No,  dear;  it  was  only  nonsense." 

"Well,  then,  I  didn't  put  my  dolly  out 
there,  — did  I?" 

"Yes,  of  course  you  did,"  said  her 
mother;  "only  you  have  forgotten  it." 

But  Patty  looked  puzzled.  She  could  not 
recollect  that  ever  so  long  ago,  the  day  the 


174  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

beggar  girl  came  to  the  house,  she  had  cured 
Polly  Dolly  Aclaline's  sore  throat  with  her 
mother's  quilted  pocket,  and  then  had  car 
ried  the  sick  dolly  out  to  the  barn,  "so  she 
could  get  well  faster  where  there  wasn't  any 


noise." 


No,  Patty  could  not  recollect  this,  and  the 
whole  thing  was  a  mystery  to  her. 

"Children,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  looking  up 
from  her  stockings,  as  soon  as  there  was  a 
chance  to  speak,  "I  have  one  word  to  say 
on  this  subject :  whenever  you  hear  of  signs 
and  wonders,  don't  believe  in  them  till 
you've  sifted  them  to  the  bottom.  And 
when  you've  done  that,  mark  my  words, 
you'll  find  there's  no  more  substance  to 
them  than  there  is  to  Francis  Starbird's 
April  Fool  Dream." 

"True,"  said  Kachel  and  James  ;  and  then, 


MR.  STARBIRD'S  DREAM.  175 

as  half  a  dozen  of  the  younger  ones  had 
gone  out,  they  had  a  quiet  talk,  five  or  six 
of  them,  round  the  fire,  and  Patty  went  to 
sleep  sitting  on  Mr.  Starbird's  knee. 


176  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

SPINNING. 

So  Patty  had  her  dollar  back;  and  now 
what  to  do  with  it  was  the  question.  She 
thought  of  a  great  many  things  to  buy, 
but  always  grew  tired  of  them  before  she 
had  fairly  made  up  her  mind. 

At  last  she  went  to  her  mother,  and  said, 
"Mamma,  I'm  only  a  little  girl,  and  don't 
know  much ;  won't  you  please  tell  me  what 
to  get?" 

"Do  you  really  wish  me  to  decide  for 
you,  my  dear?  And  will  you  be  satisfied 
with  my  choice  ?  " 

"Yes,  mamma,  I  truly  will  be  satisfied. 


SPINNING.  177 

But  —  but  —  you  don't  want  to  give  my 
dollar  to  the  heathens  —  do  you?  It's  all 
clear  silver,  and  I  s'pect  coppers  just  as 
good  for  those  heathens,  mamma." 

".What  makes  you  think  copper  is  just 
as  good,  my  child?" 

tf  Because  that's  what  people  put  into  the 
box;  and  when  they  put  any  silver  in,  it's 
in  little  bits  of  pieces.  I  don't  s'peet  the 
heathens  know  the  difference." 

Mrs.  Lyman  smiled,  though  at  the  same 
time  she  was  sorry  to  think  how  selfish  peo 
ple  are,  and  how  little  they  are  willing  to 
give  away. 

"Let  me  ask  you  a  question,  dear. 
How  would  you  like  to  have  me  carry  this 
dollar  to  Mrs.  Chase  and  Mrs.  Potter,  and 
tell  them  my  little  girl  sent  it  for  them  to 
give  to  some  poor  child?" 

Patty  looked  up  in  surprise. 
12 


178  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

» 

"If  you  are  going  to  give  it  to  a  poor 
child,  mamma,  can't  you  do  it  'thout  tell 
ing  folks?" 

'Yes,  I  could.  I  didn't  know,  though, 
but  you'd  like  to  have  Mrs.  Potter  and  Mrs. 
Chase  hear  of  it." 

A  pink  blush  crept  over  Patty's  face,  and 
away  up  to  the  top  of  her  forehead. 
"O,  mamma,  I  don't!     I  don't!" 
"Well,    I    believe    you,    my   dear.      You 
have  seen  a  little  of  the  folly  of  trying  to 
show  off.     And  that  reminds  me —     Yes,  I 
have  a  very  good  idea  ;  and  when  your  papa 
goes  to  Augusta  next  week,  I  will  send  your 
dollar,    and   have   him   buy  you   something 
you  can  always  keep." 

Patty  liked  the  sound  of  that,  and  when 
her  father  came  home  from  Augusta  with  a 
little  round  trunk  in  his  hands,  she  could 
hardly  wait  for  him  to  get  into  the  house. 


SPINNING.  179 

He  had  brought  her  a  little  red  Bible,  with 
clasp  covers.  It  was  the  first  whole  Bible 
she  had  ever  owned.  She  was  much  pleased, 
and  has  kept  the  little  book  all  these  years, 
though  its  beauty  is  quite  gone  by  this  time. 
It  is  very  precious  to  her,  because  these 
words  are  on  one  of  the  fly-leaves  in  her 
dear  mother's  own  writing :  "  Take  heed 
that  ye  do  not  your  alms  before  men,  to  be 
seen  of  them ;  otherwise  ye  have  no  reward 
of  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 

Time  passed  on,  and  on,  and  on.  Patty's 
wrists  grew  so  strong  that  she  was  trusted 
to  milk  a  small  red  cow,  though  she  must 
still  have  been  quite  a  little  girl,  for  she 
could  not  remember  which  was  the  cow's 
right  side,  and  had  to  mark  her  bag  with 
a  piece  of  chalk.  Very  soon  she  had  two 
cows  to  milk,  just  as  Mary  and  Moses  had ; 
and  Moses,  who  was  an  early  bird,  used  to 


180  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

wake  her  from  a  sound  sleep  by  calling  out, 
"Come,  come,  Patty!  Dr.  Chase's  cows  are 
out !  Mary  and  I  have  milked  !  Up,  up, 
Patty!  Why  don't  you  start?" 

Patty  thought  it  was  very  hard  to  be 
called  so  early  in  the  morning.  What  did 
she  care  for  Dr.  Chase's  cows?  She  was 
tired  of  hearing  Moses  talk  about  them. 
Poor  little  creature  !  She  always  ran  down 
stairs,  rubbing  her  eyes,  and  her  mother 
comforted  her  by  saying,  — 

"  Never  mind  it.  After  you  have  milked 
your  cows  and  turned  them  out,  you  may 
go  to  bed  again,  my  dear,  and  have  another 
nap." 

Patty  always  thought  she  would  do  it; 
but  after  the  work  was  done,  she  was  no 
longer  sleepy,  and  did  not  wish  to  go 
to  bed. 

When  she  was  ten  years  old,  she  learned 


SPINNING.  181 

to  spin  cotton.  Her  mother  first  carded  it 
into  rolls,  and  then  Patty  "roped"  it,  and 
spun  it  on  a  wheel ;  but  the  spindle  was  so 
high  up  that  she  was  obliged  to  have  a  board 
to  walk  back  and  forth  upon.  She  liked 
it  as  well  as  any  other  work,  for  she  had 
a  "knack"  at  spinning;  but  the  older  she 
grew,  the  less  time  she  had  for  play.  Her 
mother,  though  very  kind  to  her  children, 
did  not  seem  to  think  it  made  much  dif 
ference  whether  they  played  or  not.  She 
never  praised  Patty ;  but  once  the  little  girl 
overheard  her  telling  some  ladies  that  her 
youngest  daughter  was  a  "natural  work 
er,"  and  "the  smartest  child  she  had."  Of 
course  that  pleased  Patty  very  much,  and 
afterwards  she  was  brisker  than  ever. 

Her  stint  was  three  skeins  of  cotton  a 
day;  and  sometimes,  when  she  was  spin- 
ing  it,  Linda  Chase  would  come  up  in  the 


182  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

chamber  and  look  on.  Linda  could  not 
draw  a  thread  without  pulling  the  cotton 
all  to  pieces,  and  it  amazed  her  to  see  Pat 
ty's  spindle  whirl  so  fast;  for  it  went  at 
a  wonderful  rate,  especially  when  any  one 
was  looking  on. 

ff  I'm  spinning  warp  for  my  new  gown," 
said  Patty ;  "  and  Rachel  is  going  to  weave 
it." 

"What  color  will  it  be?" 

"Blue  and  copperas,  in  little  checks," 
replied  Patty. 

Linda  knew  what  copperas  color  was, — 
it  was  a  dull  yellow. 

"Twill  only  be  for  me  to  go  to  school 
in,"  explained  Patty.  "I  shall  have  it  for 
my  not-very-best.  By  and  by  I'm  going  to 
learn  how  to  spin  linen  on  that  little  flax- 
wheel,  and  Rachel  will  weave  me  some  ta- 


SPINNING.  183 

ble-cloths,  and  sheets,  and  pillow-cases,  just 
as  she  does  for  Dorcas.  Guess  why  she 
weaves  them  for  Dorcas." 

"I'm  sure  I  can't  guess.  Because  she 
wants  to,  I  suppose." 

"Look  here  —  it's  a  secret.  Dorcas  is  go 
ing  to  be  married  by  and  by,  and  that  is 
the  reason  Mr.  Starbird  comes  here  on  that 
white-faced  horse.  He  doesn't  come  to  see 
the  rest  of  us ;  he  comes  to  see  Dorcas." 

Patty  stopped  her  wheel  in  her  eager 
ness. 

*  Yes  ;  and  you  know,  Avhen  I  was  a  little 
speck  of  a  girl,  I  spilled  some  hot  tallow 
over,  and  burnt  his  hand ;  and  he  says 
that  is  the  reason  he  is  going  to  marry 
Dorcas." 

:?  What !  .because  you  burnt  his  hand  ? " 

:'Yes.     I   don't   see  why  that  made   him 


184  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

like  Dorcas,"  said  Patty,  reflectively;  "but 
that's  what  he  said.  And  then  I  shall  have 
eight  brothers ;  won't  it  be  nice  ? " 

"Does  Betsey  Potter  know?" 

"Yes.     I  told  her." 

"Well,  I  should  have  thought  you  might 
have  told  me  first,"  said  Linda,  pouting. 
"I  don't  like  it  very  well  to  have  you  tell 
me  last." 

"O,  I  told  Betsey  first  because  she  came 
first.  I  never  heard  of  it  myself  till  this 
morning,"  said  Patty,  innocently. 

She  was  never  known  to  keep  a  secret 
twenty-four  hours. 

The  idea  of  a  wedding  in  the  family  was 
perfectly  delightful  to  the  little  girl,  and 
after  this  she  used  to  watch  for  Mr.  Star- 
bird  every  third  week,  just  as  regularly  as 
Dorcas  did,  and  was  almost  as  much  pleased 


SPINNING.  185 

when   she    saw   him   coming   on  his  white- 
faced  horse. 

It  was  so  nice  to  think  of  having  more 
brothers ;  for  as  yet  poor  Patty  had  only 
seven ! 


186  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 


CHAPTEE    XV. 

THE   BRASS   KETTLE. 

THERE  was  a  great  time  that  year  pre 
paring  for  Thanksgiving.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  tall  clock  had  never  ticked  so  fast  be 
fore,  nor  the  full  moon  smiled  down  from 
the  top  of  it  with  such  a  jolly  face. 

"It's  going  to  be  what  you  may  call  a 
sort  of  a  double  Thanksgiving,"  said  Moses. 

"Why?"  asked  Patty.  "Because  there'll 
be  double  turkeys  and  double  puddings?" 

"No,  Patty  Lyman  !  Don't  you  remem 
ber  what's  going  to  happen  before  dinner?" 

"O,  you  mean  the  wedding!  I  knew 
that  ever  so  long  ago," 


THE    BRASS   KETTLE.  187 

Patty  had  heard  of  it  the  day  before. 

"Equal  to  Fourth  of  July  and  training- 
day  put  together,"  remarked  Moses,  snatch 
ing  a  handful  of  raisins  out  of  the  bowl 
Mary  held  in  her  lap. 

"Yes,"  said  Patty,  leaving  off  her  spice- 
pounding  long  enough  to  clap  her  hands ; 
"it's  splendid!" 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  say  so,"  said 
the  thoughtful  Mary,  "when  our  dear  sister 
Dorcas  is  going  'way  off,  and  never'll  live 
at  home  any  more  !  " 

"Yes,  I  know  it,"  responded  Patty,  look 
ing  as  serious  as  she  could,  for  Mary  was 
wiping  her  eyes  on  her  apron.  "  It's  dread 
ful  !  O,  how  bad  I  feel !  " 

The  kitchen  was  so  full  you  could  hardly 
turn  around.  Everybody  was  there  but 
Dorcas,  and  she  was  finishing  off  her  wed 
ding-dress.  Mrs.  Lyman  was  stuffing  two 


188  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

large  turkeys ;  Betsey  was  making  brown 
bread ;  Moses  chopping  mince-meat ;  and 
those  who  had  nothing  else  to  do  were 
talking.  Aunt  Hannah  was  there,  helping 
Rachel  make  the  wedding-cake ;  but  the 
trouble  was  with  aunt  Hannah  that  she 
couldn't  come  without  bringing  her  baby ; 
and  there  he  was,  rolling  about  the  floor  like 
a  soft  bundle  of  yellow  flannel  —  a  nice, 
fat  baby,  with  a  ruffled  cap  on  his  head. 
He  was  named  Job,  after  his  father,  who 
had  borne  that  name  through  a  long  life, 
and  been  very  patient  about  it. 

"Now,  Patty,"  said  Rachel,  "I  see  you've 
stopped  pounding  cloves,  and  I  wish  you'd 
take  care  of  this  baby ;  he  is  rolling  up 
towards  the  molasses  jug,  and  will  tip  it 
over  next  thing  he  does." 

Patty  had  only  stopped  pounding  for  half 
a  minute.  It  seemed  to  her  that  her  right 


THE   BRASS   KETTLE.  189 

hand  always  had  a  mortar-pestle  in  it.  She 
ran  now  to  get  some  playthings  for  Job  — 
a  string  of  earthen- ware  beads,  and  a  pew 
ter  plate  to  hold  them  when  he  should 
break  the  string;  and  a  squash-shell,  filled 
with  peas,  — just  as  good  as  a  rattle,  let  me 
tell  you.  Then  she  sat  on  the  floor,  making 
babyrtalk  W7ith  the  little  creature,  wrho  has 
since  that  been  somebody's  grandfather. 

Patty  always  meant  well,  and  now  she 
was  really  able  to  help  a  great  deal.  At 
ten  years  old  she  was  quite  a  tall  girl, 
though  what  the  country-folks  called  rather 
"slim."  Her  dress  was  made  of  thick  cot 
ton  and  woollen  goods,  all  rough  with  little 
knobs,  —  the  same  Eachel  had  woven  in 
"  blue  and  copperas  checks." 

Patty  soon  tired  of  amusing  Job.  She 
wanted  to  do  something  of  more  importance. 

"  I  should  think  I  might  chop  mince-meat 


190  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

instead  of  you,  Moses.  There,  now,  you're 
getting  it  so  fine  'twill  be  poison." 

Aunt  Hannah  heard  that  and  laughed. 

"That  child  takes  everything  in  ear 
nest,"  said  she.  "I  told  Moses  if  he  got 
the  mince-meat  too  fine,  'twould  be  poison 
ous  ;  but  I  never  saw  any  mince-meat  that 
was  too  fine  —  did  you,  Kachel?" 

"Mary,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  "if  you  please, 
you  may  poke  up  the  coals  now.  George, 
you'll  have  to  move  round,  and  let  her  get 
to  the  oven." 

"I'll  attend  to  it  myself,"  said  George, 
rising  from  his  chair,  at  one  end  of  the  big 
fireplace,  and  stirring  the  glowing  coals  in 
the  brick  oven  with  the  hard-wood  "pok- 
ing-stick." 

"Now,  if  you'll  all  keep  still,"  said 
James,  "I'll  read  you  something  from  the 
newspaper." 


THE   BRASS   KETTLE.  191 

Moses  dropped  his  chopping-knife,  Mary 
looked  frightened,  and  Patty  stopped  shak 
ing  the  squash-shell.  They  knew  it  would 
never  do  to  make  a  noise  while  James  was 
reading. 

"My  son,  my  son,"  pleaded  Mrs.  Lyman, 
turning  round  from  her  turkey,  and  shaking 
her  darning-needle  at  him,  "you  wouldn't 
try  to  read  in  all  this  confusion  ?  Wait  till 
we  get  a  little  oyer  our  hurry.  Go  to  the 
end-cupboard,  and  fetch  me  a  couple  of 
good,  stout  strings ;  I  want  these  turkeys 
all  ready  to  tie  on  the  nails." 

She  was  going  to  roast  them  before  the 
fire.  That  was  the  way  they  cooked  turkeys 
in  old  times. 

"And,  Betsey,"  said  Mrs.  Lyman,  "you 
may  as  well  go  to  work  on  the  doughnuts. 
Make  half  a  bushel  or  more." 

"  What  about  the  riz  bread  ?  "  said  Betsey. 


192  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

"  I  should  think  a  dozen  loaves  would  be 
enough,"  replied  Mrs.  Lyman,  who  was  now 
beginning  to  make  a  suet  pudding. 

You  see  they  meant  to  have  plenty  of 
food,  for  beside  their  own  large  family, 
they  expected  twenty  or  thirty  guests  to 
dinner  day  after  to-morrow. 

"O,  mother!"  exclaimed  Mary,  "I'm 
afraid  you're  not  making  that  pudding  thick 
enough.  Siller  Noonin  says  the  pudding- 
stick  ought  to  stand  alone." 

"Priscilla  is  thinking  of  the  old  Con 
necticut  Blue  Laws  about  mush,"  replied 

« 

Mrs.  Lyman,  smiling;  "we  don't  mind  the 
blue  laws  up  here  in  Maine.  And  this 
isn't  mush,  either  ;  it's  suet  pudding.  —  Solo 
mon,  my  son,  you  may  go  into  the  shed- 
chamber,  and  bring  me  a  bag  of  hops ;  we 
must  have  some  beer  starting." 

Betsey   swung    the    frying-kettle   on  the 


THE   BRASS    KETTLE.  193 

crane,  and  had  just  turned  away,  when  the 
baby  crept  up,  and  tipped  over  sick  George's 
basin  of  pussy-willow  and  cider,  which  was 
steeping  in  one  corner  of  the  fireplace. 
There  was  no  harm  done,  only  Job  lost  his 
patience,  and  cried,  and  for  five  minutes 
there  was  a  perfect  Bedlam  of  baby-screams, 
chopping-knives,  and  mortar-pestles,  and  in 
the  midst  of  it,  the  sound  of  the  hired  men 
winnowing  grain  in  the  barn. 

But  there  could  hardly  be  too  much  noise 
for  Patty.  I  presume  she  was  never  hap 
pier  in  her  life  than  on  the  Monday  and 
Tuesday  before  Thanksgiving ;  but  Wednes 
day  came,  and  it  rained  in  torrents. 

"  Will  they  be  married  if  it  doesn't  clear 
off?"  said  she. 

"You  do    ask    the    funniest    questions," 
replied  Rachel.     "Just  as  if  Mr.   Starbird 
13 


194  LITTLE   GEANDMOTHER. 

would  stay  away  from  his  own  wedding  on 
account  of  the  weather  !  " 

It  rained  all  night;  but  Thursday  morn 
ing  the  sun  came  rushing  through  the  clouds, 
rhis  face  all  aglow  with  smiles,  and  put  an 
end  to  such  dismal  business.  Patty  looked 
out  of  the  window,  and  watched  the  clouds 
scampering  away  to  hide,  and  whispered  in 
her  heart  to  the  little  birds  that  were  left 
in  the  maple  trees,— 

w  How  kind  God  is  to  give  us  a  good 
wedding-day ! " 

About  ten  o'clock  the  guests  began  to 
come,  and  among  the  first  was  Mr.  Star- 
bird.  Patty  had  never  seen  him  look  so 
fine  as  he  did  when  he  stood  up  with  her 
dear  sister  Dorcas  to  be  married.  He  wore 
a  blue  coat,  and  a  beautiful  ruffled  shirt, 
and  his  shoe-buckles  —  so  Moses  said  — 
were  of  solid  silver.  Why  he  needed  gloves 


THE   BRASS   KETTLE.  195 

in  the  house,  Patty  could  not  imagine ;  but 
there  they  were  on  his  hands,  —  white  kids 
at  that. 

Dorcas  was  quite  as  fine  as  the  bride 
groom.  She  had  no  veil,  but  her  high- 
topped  comb  sat  on  her  head  like  a  crown, 
and  there  was  a  wonderfully  rich  stomacher 
of  embroidered  lace  in  the  neck  of  her  dress. 
Such  a  dress !  It  shimmered  in  the  sun 
like  a  dove's  wings,  for  it  was  of  changea 
ble  silk,  the  costliest  affair,  Patty  thought, 
that  a  bride  ever  wore.  It  was  fastened 
at  the  back  like  a  little  girl's  frock,  and 
the  waist  was  no  longer  than  the  waist  of 
a  baby's  slip. 

Patty  took  great  pride  in  looking  at  her 
beautiful  sister,  from  the  top  of  her  shell 
comb  to  the  tips  of  her  wrhite  slippers, 
which  were  just  the  size  of  Patty's  own. 

The  ceremony  was  as  long  as  a  common 


196  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

sermon ;  and  it  would  have  been  longer  yet, 
if  Elder  Lovejoy  had  been  there  to  per 
form  it.  He  was  sick,  and  this  man,  who 
came  in  his  place,  did  not  speak  in  a  sing 
song  tone ;  Patty  was  not  sure  it  was  quite 
right  to  do  without  that.  He  was  young  and 
diffident.  Patty  knew  he  trembled,  for  she 
could  see  his  coat-flaps  shake ;  and  she  can 
see  them  shake  now,  every  time  she  thinks 
of  the  wedding. 

There  is  something  else  she  can  see ; 
and,  as  I  don't  believe  you  ever  heard  of 
such  a  thing,  I  must  tell  you. 

After  the  dinner  of  turkeys,  roast  beef, 
mince  pies,  apple  pies,  pumpkin  pies,  plum 
and  suet  pudding,  doughnuts,  cheese,  and 
every  other  good  thing  you  can  think  of, 
the  children  went  into  the  back  room  for 
a  frolic.  There  were  aunt  Hannah's  three 
oldest  girls,  and  uncle  Joshua's  four  big 


THE   BRASS    KETTLE.  197 

boys,  William  Parlin  and  his  sister  Love, 
and  a  few  more. 

While  they  were  there,  just  beginning  a 
game  of  blindfold,  the  bride  came  out  in  her 
travelling-dress,  with  her  young  husband, 
to  say  good  by.  Mary  fell  to  crying,  the 
twins  had  tears  in  their  eyes,  and  it  would 
have  been  a  very  sober  time,  if  Eachel  had 
not  called  out,  in  her  brisk  way,  — 

"All  step  round  to  the  sides  of  the  room, 
and  let  me  have  the  middle  ! " 

People  always  minded  Eachel ;  so  she 
had  the  floor  at  once,  though  no  one  could 
think  what  she  meant  to  do,  when  she 
brought  along  a  big  brass  kettle,  the  very 
one  in  which  Patty  had  dipped  those  un 
fortunate  candles,  and  set  it  upon  a  board, 
in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

"Now,  my  friends,"  said  she,  courtesying, 
"you  all  know  I  am  the  oldest  daughter, 


198  LITTLE    GRANDMOTHER. 

and  it  isn't  fair  that  my  younger  sister 
should  be  married  before  I  am ;  do  you 
think  it  is?" 

"No,  no;  not  at  all,"  said  uncle  Josh 
ua's  four  boys,  laughing. 

"And  I  don't  see,"  added  Rachel,  with 
another  courtesy,  —  "I  don't  see  how  Mr. 
Starbird  happened  to  make  such  a  strange 
mistake  as  to  choose  Dorcas  instead  of  me  ! " 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Mr.  Starbird, 
bowing  very  low,  "I  never'll  do  so  again." 

"  But  since  the  deed  is  done,"  said  Rachel, 
"and  cannot  be  undone,  I  shall  be  obliged 
to  dance  in  the  brass'  kettle.  That's  what 
ladies  do  whose  younger  sisters  are  married 
first." 

Then,  with  quite  a  sober  face,  she  mounted 
a  wooden  cricket,  stepped  into  the  kettle, 
and  began  to  dance. 

There  was  not  room  to  take  many  steps ; 


THE    BRASS    KETTLE.  199 

but  she  balanced  herself  very  gracefully, 
and  sung,  keeping  time  with  her  feet. 

Eachel  was  one  of  the  brightest,  wittiest 
young  ladies  in  Perseverance,  and  this  per 
formance  of  hers  amused  the  bride  and 
bridegroom,  and  everybody  else  but  little 
Patty.  Patty  took  it  all  in  earnest.  She 
had  never  heard  before  of  the  funny  cere 
mony  of  dancing  in  a  brass  kettle,  and 
wondered  if  it  had  anything  to  do  with 
those  candles  of  hers. 

"  Mr.  Starbird  likes  Dorcas  better  than  he 
does  Eachel,"  thought  the  little  girl,  "and 
that  was  why  he  asked  her  to  marry  him. 
I  should  think  Eachel  might  know  that ! 
She  says  he  made  a  mistake  ;  but  he  didn't ! 
If  Eachel  feels  so  bad,  I  shouldn't  think 
she  would  tell  of  it.  Poor  Mr.  Starbird  ! 
He'll  be  so  sorry  !  and  Dorcas  will  be  so 
sorry!  O,  I  wish  Eachel  hadn't  told  —  " 


200  LITTLE     GRANDMOTHER. 

rt  Why,  Patty,  what  makes  you  look  so 
sober?"  asked  William  Parlin.  "You  look 
as  if  Master  Purple  had  been  feruling  you." 

But  Patty  was  ashamed  to  let  any  one 
know  the  trouble  in  her  mind;  and  after 
the  bride  and  bridegroom  had  gone,  she 
ran  away  by  herself  to  cry;  and  that  is 
all  she  remembers  of  the  wedding. 

v 

"Is  it  really  grandma  Parlin  you  have 
been  writing  about?"  says  Prudy. 

"It  doesn't  seem  much  like  it;  for  here 
she  sits,  with  her  cap  and  spectacles  on, 
knitting  a  stocking.  Please  take  off  your 
cap,  grandma,  so  we  can  think  how  you 
looked  when  you  were  a  little  girl." 

Mrs.  Parlin  took  it  off,  but  it  didn't  make 
any  difference,  for  her  hair  was  grayer  still 
without  the  lace. 

"That  isn't  the  way,  children,"  said  aunt 


THE    BRASS    KETTLE.  201 

Madge;  "you'll  have  to  imagine  how  she 
looked;  or,  as  Fly  would  say,  you  must 
make  believe.  Touch  her  hair  with  gold. 
There,  see  how  it  shines  !  Take  off  those 
spectacles-;  smooth  out  the  wrinkles;  make 
her  face  as  soft  as  a  rose-leaf,  as  soft  as 
your  face,  Fly ;  dwindle  her  figure  down, 
down,  till  she  looks  about  ten  years  old. 
Now  do  you  see  her?  Isn't  she  pretty? 
How  the  sparkles  come  and  go  in  her  eyes  ! 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  a  romp  with  her 
in  the  new-mown  hay  ?  For  she  hasn't  any 
more  rheumatism  in  her  back  than  a  butter- 

• 

fly.  Her  feet  are  dancing  this  minute  in 
pink  kid  slippers  with  rosettes  on  them  as 
big  as  poppies,  and  she  wears  a  white  mus- 
linet  gown,  with  a  pink  calico  petticoat. 
Wasn't  that  the  way  she  was  dressed  at  the 
wedding,  father  Parlin?" 

"How  should  I  know?"  replies  grandpa. 


202  LITTLE   GRANDMOTHER. 

"I  don't  remember  what  she  had  on;  but 
she  was  the  spryest,  prettiest  little  girl  in 
town;  and  she  hasn't  a  child  —  no,  nor  a 
grandchild  either  —  that  begins  to  be  equal 
to  her." 

"  Except  Flyaway,"  cries  Prudy  ;  w  you 
forget  that  Flyaway  is  just  like  her ! " 

This  is  not  a  bad  place  to  leave  our 
friends.  I  did  intend  to  tell  about  an 
other  member  of  the  circle ;  but  I  believe  I 
will  not,  for  I  may  put  him  into  another 
story ;  that  is,  if  you  would  like  to  hear 

• 

about  William  Parlin,  —  I  wonder  if  you 
would?  —  in  a  book  we  will  call  "LITTLE 
GRANDFATHER." 


[Clarke,   Re 

T  *  j-  j.  n 

becca  S.t 
j     j_i 

yoo 

C599 
lit 

Little   gj 

anumotner 

.v 

24  1-^2 

• 

' 

1 

X' 

^ 

C599 
lit 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


